An Eye for a Bargain
by Nimue
Summary: Sparrow has been captured by bounty hunters, who are of orders to turn him over to the British Navy in exchange for immunity. While imprisoned, the Captain vows his revenge. J/OC W/E
1. Default Chapter

Title: An Eye for a Bargain 1/?

Genre: Action/Romance

Pairing: J/OC, W/E, N/OC 

Rating: R/NC-17

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am serious. Even this machine is a rental. Pirates of the Caribbean, all its characters/places/things belongs to Disney. The Poem "She Moved Through the Fair" belongs in part to Padraic Collum. I take no credit for the recognizable. I make no profit from this.

Summary: A romance or sorts for Jack Sparrow. 

Notes: Abiageal is pronounced the same as Abigail, it means "one who brings joy." It is the Irish version of the name, and the reason for the Irish spelling will be disclosed in the story. 

~*~*~*~

His fingers are filthy, covered with countless layers of dirt and god only knows what else. The thin film of dust and grit that is always present accentuates the deep brown of his skin, but the grime on his hands is the worst. Ribbons of grease trail down his fingers from the foul smelling piece of meat he holds greedily in his hands. His right palm is bound with a rag, a long-past treatment for a wound suffered in a long-forgotten battle. The rag is now stained with dried blood and sweat; the wound beneath infected and unnoticed by its owner. For now, all he can concentrate on is the rotten food in his hands, his only source of nourishment for the coming days. He holds it in his hands, taking large bites, choking down the sour flavor. He doesn't think about what the effects on his stomach will be, only that for the first time in a week, there will be something for his stomach to digest. He prays he can keep it down. 

There is no water to wash away the bitter taste, save for the shallow puddles that flood the floor. Those puddles of sea water, salty and deadly by nature. A few sips from those puddles had left him ill for days, and he dare not chance them again. 

He is weary, the last bite of meat disappearing from the tips of his fingers into his mouth. He wipes the excess greases on his worn breeches, the cloth of the pants stretched to its limits after too much wear. His tunic is in worse condition, the last vestiges of its former greatness long worn away. Once, he'd worn grand clothing, intricately woven by the finest craftsmen from the finest silk. He remembered owning a pair of soft leather boots, and how they'd shined with newness after every polish. When he looked at his feet now, all he saw was well worn and battered flesh. The skin on the soles of his feet rubbed raw, his toes mangled and broken. Countless bruises adorned his flesh, coloring his skin with new patterns every day, as new wounds awoke and old ones went to rest. A long gash is visible to all but him along his brow, and while he cannot see it, he knows it is there. The itch alone is enough to drive him to insanity. The wound has been opened and re-opened a dozen times from the scratching. 

The blood had drawn the attention of the rats in the days past. He shivered, in his eyes there was nothing more foul than being eaten alive by rats, specially the bloodthirsty little buggers aboard this vessel.

He remembered the days when he would ride topside, on a vessel very similar to this one, only faster. Days before he's been reduced to the simpering mass of a man he was now. He remembered being strong, carefree. He remembered freedom, and above all else, he sought to get it back. 

He was thrown from his revere by the sound of approaching footsteps. His body stiffened, a reflexive action learned from weeks of abuse. It was only when he heard a familiar cackle that he re-adjusted himself and stood with the pride of the man he was, or at least, the man he had once been.

"Sparrow," the speaker sighed. "Look at ye, yer hardly recognizable under all that filth. Tis a shame lad, where once ye stood with the majesty of kings, look at what ye bin reduced to." The man laughed then, an insane cackle that could only have issued forth from a man half-snapped. "I bet ye bin wonderin' what we was plannin' to do wit ye?"

There was no response from the man known as Sparrow. He did in fact make quite the pathetic sight, with the better part of his body weight having been lost in the weeks of his imprisonment. Still, there was a lightness about him that was ever present. A glint of amusement was apparent in his eyes, as though he were in on some joke that the rest of the world was unaware of. His captor, a pirate by the name of Scarlet, chose oft to ignore what he wrote off as Sparrow's insanity. After all, Sparrow had always been a bit "off."

They'd come upon his ship, The Black Pearl unexpectedly, while at port in Tortuga. Despite all of Sparrow's preparations and caution, they'd managed to capture him. Just him. They hadn't bothered with The Pearl, or any other member of his crew for that matter. That fact alone had struck him as odd at first, but now he knew better. It was simple, the other's, even the might Pearl herself, weren't apart of 'the plan.' Sparrow had yet to learn exactly what 'the plan' entailed, but he had his ides. Now, he was simply furious with himself for permitting the capture.

His cockiness had finally got the better of him it seemed.

"As ye may or may not be aware, Sparrow, I've made a little wee bit of a side trek into the bounty huntin' business. Did ye know, Sparrow, that the British Navy has a bounty on yer head of five thousand gold pieces? Now, I know for a great and mighty pirate such as yerself, five thousand gold prices is a trivial fortune, not worthy of the months of work it took us to track ye down. But, us small timers likes to keep the penny's a rollin', and a few gold pieces will buy milady a fine new silk gown." 

Sparrow choked, clearing his throat as if to speak. "I will double the bounty if ye release me." His voice was hoarse, his throat raw from disuse. The words came forth at barely a whisper, but Scarlet heard them just fine.

"Ya see lad, I knowed you was gonna be making an offer like that, so I bargained with them navy brats an got meself the one thing you could never offer." Scarlet grinned maliciously, drawing out the drama, waiting for Sparrow to ask. "Think lad, yer the richest pirate in the Spanish Gulf, and there's nothin' I could ever want that you don' have. Cept' for one thing, now what is it?"

There was a brief pause, as the former captain of The Black Pearl digested the new information. "Immunity," he replied softly. 

"That's right lad, a clean slate and a fresh start. I tells' ya, those British want you real bad. Now, what could you have possibly done to make em so angry, eh Sparrow? Me thinks ye may have had yer way with the General's daughter, tarnished an innocent's reputation or something like that."

Sparrow refused to dignify the comment with an answer. Rather, he sat down cross-legged on the floor of his tiny cell. He tried breaking out several times, but they'd anticipated his every move. "Yer a fool, Scarlet. The British isn't gonna grant you a bloody thing. You turn me in, and you've as good as put yer own head in the noose." He scoffed.

"Not bloody likely Scarlet. I's got's meself some insurance, an that' more an I can say bout' you. Now, if you'll excuse me, Cap'n," he bowed with a flourish, "I have somewhere I need'a be." 

With that, Scarlet excused himself to the upper decks of his ship. He'd left two of his crewmen behind to keep eyes on their captive, who'd they'd noticed was rather restless of late.

"Do we sail to England, then?" Sparrow inquired.

His watchmen glanced at each other, wondering if they ought to answer. "Couldn't be much harm to tell him, could it?" The other shrugged in response. 

"We sail to Port Royal, in search of a man called Norrington. He's a Commodore, and the only one with the papers to secure your bounty."

"Why do we sail so long then," Sparrow asked. "When you captured me, we weren't but a days haste from the Port." 

"We did it to weaken ye. Seems yer an easy captive to lose. Least that what we was told." 

Sparrow nodded. If their goal had been to weaken him, than at least they'd been only partially successful. Though, for good measure, he didn't think he'd stand much of a chance against a maiden in his current condition. These idiots had made a critical error however. If they were truly sailing towards Port Royal, he stood a chance of surviving this ordeal after all.

~*~*~*~

Waking was a difficult process for her. Leaving the blissful peace of sleep, the eternal comfort of the darkness, to face yet another hectic day. Sighing, Elizabeth Swann Turner opened her sleep filled eyes and smiled. Waking was difficult yes, but she was a very happy, very satisfied woman. She turned to face the body of the man lying next to her, her grin widening even as she did so. William Turner, her husband of one year and four months, still slept soundly, despite the late hour. They'd both retired late last evening, but that was no excuse for Will to neglect his duties. He ought to have been at work before the dawn, but quite obviously, he was not. Still smiling, she leaned over to wake her husband, as only a loving wife is able to do. Lightly kissing his cheek, she began to feather kisses along his jaw, and over his eyelids, before moving onto his neck. Aye, how she loved to kiss that neck. She heard Will groan, and watched delighted as his chocolate eyes opened and focused on her.

"Morning love." He whispered sleepily, a smile forming on his lips. He captured her lips in a passionate kiss, teasing her gently, his tongue slipping into the warm cavity of her mouth, drawing a low moan form the depths of her throat. Elizabeth sighed contentedly.

"Good morning yourself lazybones." She replied, when he reluctantly relinquished his hold on her lips.

"You do realize the hour of your intended waking has long passed?" She teased. Will sat bolt upright, suddenly very much awake, and aware of his surroundings. 

"Bloody hell! I'm out to get it for this!" He leapt from their bed, dashing to the bureau for a clean tunic and breeches. Elizabeth let out a yelp as she was dislodged from her formerly comfortable position in her husband's arms. She sat up crossly.

"Well, it's hardly my fault, there's certainly no need to toss me aside like that." She countered angrily. "It doesn't help that you chose not to retire until after the midnight, well knowing that you were to rise early this morning."

"If I remember correctly darling, my 'choosing' to retire after midnight had just as much to do with you as it did me. You certainly had no complaints last evening." He replied, a smug grin plastered on his face. Elizabeth rose from the bed, her temper getting the better of her. 

"Why you! You scoundrel! How dare you talk to me in such a manner!" Fuming, she gathered her sleeping robe from the back of a nearby chair and made to leave the room. No doubt, to put up a fuss among the servants. Guiltily, Will made after her, grasping her arm just as she stepped from their outer chambers into the hall. He slowly drew her back inside, shutting the door as well. What he had to say needn't be overheard by gossiping maids. 

"Forgive me love. I am merely frustrated with myself this morning. I ought to have known better. I did not intend to take my frustrations out upon you. And, I forgot to thank you for the lovely wake up call." He caught her lips in a gentle kiss, which quickly grew more feverish, passionate. 

Elizabeth melted into his arms, her anger forgotten instantly. He was so gentle, so caring. It was impossible to remain angry with him for long. She allowed him to lead her back into the bedchamber, where he shortly made a decent apology, for which all was forgiven.

She decided that a visit to her dear friend Cate was in order for the day. Catherine Smith had moved to Port Royal six months prior with her husband, Benjamin. Shortly thereafter, her parents had followed with all of her younger siblings. They lived in a modest house along the East Side of the bay, overlooking the beach. Ben was a good man, a merchant of modest income, and she had met Catherine through William's acquaintance with the man. Cate's parents had shared the house with the couple until only recently, when they'd moved down the lane. Catherine had two younger brothers and three younger sisters, all of whom were under fifteen. The youngest was still a babe in swaddling clothes. While Catherine and Benjamin had no children of their own, her siblings were more than a handful. Elizabeth smiled; Cate's mother was once again visiting her daughter, all the children in tow, with the exception of her boy's, whom were helping their father.

"Elizabeth! Dear, I am so glad to see you." Cate smiled, embracing her friend in greeting. "Please, sit down. May I offer you refreshment?" 

"Tea please." Elizabeth replied. "Good morning Mrs. Montgomery, how do you do today?"

Catherine's mother smiled. "Hello Elizabeth. I fare well today. I was simply wondering what had inspired me to have so many children." She was currently changing the youngest child, for the third time that morning. Elizabeth laughed.

"You are a wonderful mother, Mrs. Montgomery. Rest assured, we all know how much you love your children." 

Cate returned with the tea, and the ladies sat at the table in the garden. "Speaking of children mother, when is Abiageal due to arrive?" She inquired.

"If all goes well, she ought to be here within a week. I eagerly await her arrival, I could use her help." Laura Montgomery replied. She was weary, the move having taken quite a bit of her strength. She hadn't realized how dependent she'd become of Abiageal back in England. 

"Who is Abiageal?" Elizabeth asked, sipping her tea.

"She is my eldest child. Fathered by my first husband, Jamie McLeod. She took his name for her own, and she bears his likeness. When you meet her Elizabeth, you would never realize she was my daughter, so much does she resemble her father." Sadness entered Laura's eyes then, as she remembered her lost love. "Sadly, he died at sea. He was a merchant sailor, and his ship was attacked by pirates." Tears welled in her eyes at the memory.

"Dirty scoundrels. Please don't cry mother. The time for mourning is passed. Abby will be here soon, and then you can rest. She always takes care of everything."

"Is Abiageal married, Cate?" Elizabeth asked, trying her best to change the subject.

"Nay. I fear she may never know the beauty of marriage. She's far too stocky to be a fashionable maiden." Cate replied sadly. Her elder sister had always taken care of her and her younger siblings. She'd never had the time to pursue a social life in England, and there was little chance of her meeting anyone here in Port Royal. 

"How sad." Elizabeth's heart filled with pity. "Tell me, how old is she?"

"She will have twenty five summers this year." Mrs. Montgomery replied. "Do not worry yourselves over Abiageal girls, my husband is planning an arrangement with Commodore Norrington that ought to ease her way in life. Cate's father will she to it that my daughter is well taken care of." An aristocratic ease settled over the elder woman's features. She was rather pleased with herself about the arrangement. 

"Commodore Norrington?" Elizabeth whispered to Cate. "My, the poor woman. My heart bleeds for her already, and we haven't yet met."

"Do not worry Elizabeth, my sister would never allow such an 'arrangement.' She's far too spirited."

With that, the two women quickly tidied up their tea, and made plans to spend the rest of the day in the garden, under the shade of the trees. The hours passed quite quickly, and before long, William had arrived to escort his wife home.

"Is it time to leave already? Goodness, where did the time go?" Elizabeth wondered. "Goodbye Cate, thank you for having me today. You're always such splendid company."

"Goodbye Elizabeth. Take care." 

The young couple wasn't five minutes away when Will began his merciless teasing. "You're such splendid company." He mocked in a high, feminine voice. He curtseyed to accentuate his teasing.

"Oh Will, you're awful." Elizabeth countered. "Besides, these are ladies of the British court. Straight from London! They are dainty, proper, and are terrified of the very idea of pirates and the dark Caribbean culture. As the governor's daughter, it is my station to attend to them, married or not. They expect a proper lady, of proper English upbringing." She defended herself. Her stern expression melted with her next statement however. "Besides, I have plenty of time throughout the rest of the day to be at ease with you."

With that, she broke into a run. "I'll race you home!"

Will laughed, figuring he'd at least give her a tiny head start. She was after all, dressed in the attire of a "proper English lady." Dresses and heeled boots were not easy to run about in, or so he'd heard.

He chased after his wife, laughing as they flashed through the quite streets of the small village. It was early evening, when most were either settled down with their families for evening meal, of sharing stories at the tavern. The streets were near empty, so few bore witness to the antics of the couple. Those that did would share secret smiles, bearing the knowledge of love as it were a badge of honour. 

High above, the sun made its way toward rest, relinquishing its reign of the sky to Ithil's light. 

All was well in the world.

~*~*~*~

Suggestion Box: nymuea@yahoo.com


	2. New Arrivals

Title: An Eye for a Bargain 2/?

Genre: Action/Romance

Pairing: J/OC, W/E, N/OC 

Rating: R/NC-17

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am serious. Even this machine is a rental. Pirates of the Caribbean, all its characters/places/things belongs to Disney. The Poem "She Moved Through the Fair" belongs in part to Padraic Collum. I take no credit for the recognizable. I make no profit from this.

Summary: A romance or sorts for Jack Sparrow.

Notes: A thank you to all who reviewed Chapter one. You're kind words were inspiring to say the least. I hope I don't disappoint you with the addition of my original character. As always, I try my best to keep the reader's happy.

Cheers

~*~*~*~

Abiageal McLeod stepped off the platform and onto the receiving ports of Port Royal on the fifth hour of the first day of spring. Her arrival in the tiny Caribbean Port was much anticipated by her family, whom were waiting to receive her. Abiageal was very much the spitting image of her Irish rogue father, touting the same fiery hair that had once made her sire famous. She had also been gifted with his keen eyes, of a dark stormy gray. Unfortunately for Miss Abiageal, she had also inherited her father's gargantuan height, and stocky, muscular build. So, it was with great disdain that Commodore Theodore Norrington met the woman he'd arranged to take as his wife. By some great grace of god however, he was able to maintain a strict polite demeanor, lest he insult the lady upon their first meeting.

Abiageal smiled, a hearty grin that enveloped all in her presence with warmth. She was by first rights, a lady, and while she may not look the part, she played it to perfection.

"Greetings Mother, Father." She found herself enveloped in a warm embrace by Mr. Lawrence Montgomery, the man whom had been her father since she was five years old.

"Enough with the formalities Abiageal, we're overjoyed to see you." Montgomery exclaimed. He stepped aside to give Abiageal's mother space. Laura Montgomery clung to her eldest daughter in desperation.

"My dearest child. You have no idea how happy I am to see you. How much I need you here. I've missed you so much."

"Hush Mother, tis alright, I'm here now." Abby whispered soothingly. "You can rest now." Abiageal worried over the dark circles present in her mother's face. The elder woman was fatigued, almost to the point of illness.

Those outside the family whom were present thought it a bit odd that Abiageal spoke with an Irish lit. After all, she had been raised by a fine English gentleman. She took after her father in more ways than one it seemed. 

"Abiageal, there is someone I'd very much like you to meet. This is Commodore Norrington. I've told him a great deal about you, and he's awaited your arrival in Port Royal as anxiously as the rest of us." Lawrence announced, drawing her forward to meet the Commodore.

"My lady, it is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance." Norrington bowed slightly, and took up her hand, kissing it genteelly. Abiageal had the grace to blush, though it was not flattery that shone through in her eyes. "Welcome to Port Royal. If there is anything that I can do to make your stay more comfortable, please don't hesitate to inform me."

"The pleasure is all mine, Commodore. I thank you for your generous hospitality." Abby replied humbly. 

"My goodness, perhaps we ought to get back to the house? You're most likely exhausted Abiageal, after such a trying journey." Cate intervened. 

Abby's face lit up upon seeing her sister. "Cate, I was wondering were you'd gotten to! My goodness, it's so good to see you again!" The girls embraced warmly; reunited after spending months apart. "Where's that devilish husband of yours? Has he not even a moment to spare and come greet me?"

"Benjamin's busy oft of late, Abby. Trying to make our way in such a small market is more difficult than we'd imagined, but somehow we manage. Ben sends his love of course, and he'll see you at dinner tonight." Cate replied evenly.

"Abiageal, perhaps you ought to say goodbye to the Commodore?" Laura suggested, with not just a bit of a hint in her tone. 

"Aye, yes, Commodore," Abby returned her attention to Norrington. "Thank you for coming to receive me Commodore, it was most gracious of you. I believe I will retire with my family now, but I look forward to our next meeting." Abby smiled warmly 

"As do I, my lady." Norrington replied, every bit the aristocratic gentleman.

"Good day to you Commodore." Lawrence added, before the family departed the docks with much haste. There was plenty of work that needed to be done before Abiageal's arrival could be celebrated properly.

Norrington bowed one last time before departing to the military barracks. His thoughts strayed to the arrangements he'd made with Montgomery, wondering at how he could have allowed such a mistake on his part. Abiageal in no part resembled her beautiful mother, nor her sisters. He saw no resemblance to Montgomery either, which led him to believe that Abiageal had a different sire, and therefore took after him. Had this information been divulged to him prior to the engagement, he would have considered his options more carefully. Not that it mattered. Montgomery hadn't been completely truthful about his Abiageal's heritage, and therefore, the arrangement was not binding. 

Abiageal was nearly his height, and that wouldn't do. He was a Commodore of the British Navy in the Caribbean, and therefore had an image to keep. Taking and Irish rogue for a wife would do nothing to forward his career, and he had to think accordingly. 

He'd had a plan, but William turner had ruined it for him. He'd not expected Elizabeth Swann to fall in love with a lowly blacksmith. Indeed, no one had expected such a misfortunate turn in the young woman. Yet, she had turned, away from him and into Turner's arms. 

He sighed, but then turned his thoughts to more important things. He'd received word this morn that Sparrow had been captured in Tortuga, and his captors were well on their way with him. They' intended to weaken him prior to his arrival in order to prevent any possible escape. This likely meant starvation and torture for dear old Jack Sparrow. They'd sailed for weeks, trying to throw The Pearl and her crew off their Captain's scent. At least they weren't entirely incapable. After all, they hadn't been caught yet. Norrington was confident that the capture would proceed as planned. This time next month, Sparrow would be long dead.

That thought brought a smile to his face. 

~*~*~*~ 

"What was that all about, Cate?" Abiageal inquired, her attention divided between her sister and unpacking her numerous bags and traveling chests into the drawers in her room.

"What was what about?" Cate replied, dodging the question for the third time within an hour. She concentrated intently on the gown she was fluffing. The detailing in the bodice was suddenly very interesting indeed.

"The Commodore! Why was it so important that I meet the Commodore? Please don't tell me that father has been making plans without by knowledge."

Cate looked at her sister apologetically. There was not much for her to say, and she certainly wasn't about to lie to her best friend. Still, she had her reservations about divulging the information to Abby, whom she knew wouldn't take the news very well. Abiageal was a true blue romantic, whom firmly believed that she would one day find true love, and be swept away in the arms of her Prince Charming. It was idealistic yes, and perhaps a tad naïve, but it was a part of her sister's personality. It was a part of Abby. Innocent Abby. It didn't matter that Abby was five years her senior, she would always be innocent in Cate's eyes. It was that innocence that endeared her to so many people. Unfortunately, her innocence also tended to be the reason for her heartaches as well. "Father believes the Commodore to be the perfect perspective match for you. As far as I know, there are no solid arrangements in order, but there may be in the future."

"Oh Cate. Why must father get himself involved? Why can't he just accept the fact that I am going to die an old maid? There isn't a man in the whole of the empire that could possibly look upon me with desire. At least, there isn't any respectable man." Abiageal sighed. She gazed upon her reflection in the mirror with disdain. Her eyes were much too small for her face, and too close together. Her nose was sharp and long, and she was long of the face as well. As a child, the other children had constantly teased her, calling her names. "Horse face," a name that haunted her to this very day. Children were cruel yes, but she couldn't help but believe it was true, if only in part. Her hair was wiry and the color of orange flame. It was also fiercely curly and impossible to tame, and she grew tired of trying. She was both blessed and cursed with a fair Irish complexion. Blessed because her skin was pale as snow, even after hours in the sun. Cursed, because she would turn red as a tomato at even the slightest display of temper, or any other emotion for that matter. Her shoulders gave wide berth for her rounded, supple breasts. Her arms were muscular to the point of masculinity, and so she made great efforts to always keep them covered, hidden under and excess of cloth. She had wide birthing hips, and even corseted, having a man span her waist with his hands was a complete impossibility. If her physical appearance didn't turn would be suitors away, her behavior certainly did. She had a ferocious temper, easy sparked. She was also prone to speaking out of turn. She'd lost count of the number of times, while still in her youth, that she'd been met with the back of her father's hand for voicing an inappropriate opinion. But she knew that she had some beauty. She was not completely without confidence; it was just lacking of late. She sighed again, hopelessness clouding her thoughts and storming over her eyes.

"Don't give up hope Abby. Perhaps you could always marry a pirate? They're known to be less than respectful." Cate suggested teasingly, trying desperately to lighten the mood.

"A pirate indeed!" Abiageal laughed. "Yo Ho, yo ho, a pirates life for me!" She laughed heartily, her depression lifting from her heart instantly. "Thank you Cate. You're a good friend." Abby pondered the suggestion. It was ludicrous of course. No lady would willingly lie with a pirate, to do so was to completely disgrace oneself. She could suffer the insecurities of her appearance, and she could suffer the knowledge of never finding love. She would not however, sacrifice her good name and family for passion. 

~*~*~*~

Jack Sparrow was nearing the end. He could feel it in his chest, for no healthy man's breath sounded so loud as the waves crashing against the sides of a ship. Twas not healthy, and he feared that without aid, he wouldn't live long enough to see the Port. Unbeknownst to Jack, he can contracted a cold during his confinement aboard the bounty hunters vessel. The dank and musky air, combined with the moisture and cool night temperatures had resulted in pneumonia. He required medical assistance, and even then, his chances for survival were slim. There were few skilled doctors in the Caribbean, and those that were around would have serious problems with the treatment of a pirate. Not that it mattered anyhow, for Jack sincerely believed that if his illness didn't kill him first, he wouldn't last long in Norrington's hands. 

He coughed again, the pressure building in his chest cavity, and setting his throat ablaze with pain. His muscles barely functioned anymore, and he'd long since lost the ability to stand. He could barely feel his limbs, let alone make them move. Near a fortnight had passed since his conversation with Scarlet, and he'd been given not much more than a few bread crumbs and one rotten chicken leg to eat since then. They'd provided him with very little 

water, and what he had been given was contaminated with various wastes, likely having been sourced from the kitchen traps.

He was more than sick. He was disgusting, and he knew it. There was not a sole alive that would be able to identify him by sight for that which he was. He'd lost a considerable amount of weight, his hair was beyond un-kept, and what was left of his clothing was disgraceful. 

He wallowed a bit in self-pity, thinking back upon his short life, and wondering that if he were given the chance, would he make any changes? Likely no. Jack Sparrow was not a man with regrets. He was proud of his accomplishments, offbeat as they were. His life experiences were what made him the man he was now. He snorted. Aye, a dying man, full of disease and an empty stomach aboard a lowly bounty ship. 

Perhaps he did have regrets. Well, he had one regret. It was best not to dwell on it however. There were some things in life that could not be changed, and what was meant to happen would. Likewise, if it were not meant to happen, it wouldn't. Obviously, he was not meant to have certain things in his life. He was not the type of man to dote upon children, or the thought of a family. Pirates simply didn't have families. That's why they were pirates. Severe all ties; leave no connections, no way for them to hurt ye. In the pursuit of adventure and fortune, a pirate sacrificed all else.

It was a simple existence, and one that he had chosen for himself. His choice. His life.

Still, he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if someone were to care about him. Were to care that he was trapped aboard this ship, dying. If there was someone out there that was waiting for him to come home, to come back to them. Someone that would miss him if he didn't return.

But there was no one. There was no one left wondering if he was alive. No one who cared whether or not he lived or died. 

For the first time in his life, Jack realized that he was truly and utterly alone, and it scared him.

~*~*~*~

It'd been a week since Abiageal's arrival, and she'd not a moment's rest since then. There was always some chore that needed to be done, or one of the children required her attention. There had been countless meetings with neighbors, most of whom she didn't remember. She did remember meeting the Turner's however. They were an interesting young couple, a few years younger than she was. She'd listened to Elizabeth for hours, as she recounted her adventures among pirates and thieves. She was especially impressed with Elizabeth's account of Jack Sparrow. The marvelous story the girl had spun was better than any novella Abiageal had yet come upon. She'd even recommended that Elizabeth write a book. "Maybe someday." Elizabeth had blushed.

William turner was just as interesting as his wife. The dashing young blacksmith and entertained them with his fancy swordplay, and his mocking of Norrington. Abby had appreciated their crude humor, even if her sister did not. 

"They're usually so proper, Abiageal, I don't know what's gotten into them." Cate complained.

"I didn't mind. Their humor was refreshing. I quite enjoyed their company." Abby replied, confused as to what exactly " being proper" entailed. "They were entertaining and hospitable. I don't believe anything else was necessary."

"They could have refrained from their crude insults of the Commodore. He is a good man, and does his job well." Cate defended.

"Perhaps, but that doesn't make Will's impressions any less amusing."

"You are impossible Abiageal."

"I know."

Things were so hectic in Port Royal, the only time Abby had to herself were those precious few hours of the wee morning. When the sky was black and everyone was tucked soundly into bed. 

Like right now, in this silent moment, when she sat gazing out the window at the blackened sea and star filled sky. It was a small moment, for which she grateful to have all to herself. The silence was golden in her ears, the tranquillity of the ocean lulling her into a revere.

She wondered at her decision to come across the Atlantic for her family. Prior to her trans-Atlantic voyage, she'd removed herself to the small village in Ireland where she'd been born. Her parents where completely unaware of her journey to Ireland, having been kept up to date through letters of her "supposed" doings in London. With the help of her loyal servants alone, she'd been able to keep up the ruse, while taking some time to visit old friends and relations in the seaside Irish community. She certainly felt comfortable there, but also incomplete. She'd resolved herself to the fact that there truly was nothing in Ireland for her, and her longing for adventure of any kind had been what prompted the packing of her bags and the great journey across the ocean. 

Still, it had only been a week, and while she felt a strong sense of devotion to her family, she longed for her former independence as well.

There was little chance of her ever reclaiming that. Lawrence Montgomery was thoroughly convinced that he'd found her the perfect mate. While Commodore Norrington was a decent gentleman, she harbored strong reservations about him. The Commodore was kind, but conservative as well. Abiageal knew what kind of woman the Commodore expected, and she certainly was not that woman. She knew it was the romantic in her trying to break free, but Norrington didn't strike her as interesting in the least. The man was positively dull. She'd spent not but a few hours in the Commodore's company, and found that the only topic of conversation that appeared to hold with him was the military. This of course, provided him with ample opportunity to talk about himself, and his great achievements. 

Sighing, she retrieved her hairbrush from the dressing table and began to hum softly while running the comb through her wiry hair. The heat and humidity had made the tangling even worse, and she'd been forced to rely on braids and pins to keep it tidy. It was far too long to be practical, but her mother would have a fit if she were to cut it, even to her shoulders. As it was now, the rogue Irish curls cascaded down her back in coppery waves, only coming to a halt at her hips. Her hair was fiercely curly, and completely unmanageable. She complained of it oft, though there was nothing to be done for it. She began to sing softly to herself, breaking the silence with her melody.

My love said to me,

My mother won't mind

And my Father won't slight ye

For your lack of kind

Then she stepped away from me

And this she did say

It will not be long love

Till our wedding day

She stepped away from me

And she moved through the fair

And fondly I watched her

Move here and move there

And she went her way homeward

With one star awake

As the swans in the evening

Move over the lake

The people were saying,

No two e'er were wed

But one has a sorrow

That never was said

And she smiled as she passed me

With her goods and her gear

And that was the last

That I saw of my dear.

I dreamed it last night

That my true love came in

So softly she entered

Her feet made no din

She came close beside me

And this she did say

It will not be long love

Till our wedding day

Her melancholy settled over her again, and she knew she ought to know better than to dwell on it. A lady never ought not to sulk, or so she had been taught.

She was startled from her daydreams by a loud shout, and the crash of something heavy being dropped on a hard surface. Rushing to the window, she could hear a ruckus down at the harbour. Who could be out there at this hour? A shipment? It was entirely possible. Whoever it was, they made enough racket to wake even the dead. Her curiosity getting the better of her, despite the late hour, she threw on her robe and quietly moved out of the house.

She hid herself behind a bunch of empty ale kegs. No small feat considering her height, but she managed. She had a clear view of the goings on in the harbour, and what she saw there sent shivers up and down her spine. Her arms were covered in gooseflesh, and she felt her breath hitch at the sight. They were pirates, and there were more than a few. A large band was carrying what looked to be a corpse into the main square. She was slightly shocked to see Commodore Norrington moving to intercept them, and relieved as well. At the very least, Norrington was good for the removal of denizens such as these. She could smell them even from her distant hiding place. They reeked of death and waste. Most likely, none had bathed in the last month, or year.

The pirates threw the body at Norrington's feet, and the look of satisfaction on his face was frightening. He kicked at the corpse, and it was then that Abiageal realized the person wasn't dead. She heard a muffled groan, before the person lapsed once more into silence. Her heart bled for the mistreatment of the poor soul. 

Whoever the person was, their crimes must have been terrible to warrant such treatment. 

~*~*~*~

Suggestion Box: nymuea@yahoo.ca 


	3. Restrictions

Title: An Eye for a Bargain 3/?

Genre: Action/Romance

Pairing: J/OC, W/E, N/OC 

Rating: R/NC-17

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am serious. Even this machine is a rental. Pirates of the Caribbean, all its characters/places/things belongs to Disney. I take no credit for the recognizable. I make no profit from this.

Summary: A romance or sorts for Jack Sparrow. 

Notes: This is a shorter one. Didn't have as much time to write as I'd hoped.

Comments: I am the queen of terrible typing. There are more typo's in my work than I would care to admit. It usually takes me a week to get my term papers clean. However, after numerous attempts with numerous beta readers (for fictional writing purposes), I've given up. If you want to read my work, do so with the warning that it will continue to be un-beta'd. I sincerely hope I do not offend anyone who takes his or her craft seriously. I am serious about what I do, but a lack of time prevents me from taking necessary actions to prevent typographical errors. Please forgive me.

Ah, and the cursed Mary Sue syndrome. Try as I might, I just can't seem to get rid of her. I do promise to work on her though. If anyone knows of a way to shut her up, please let me in on the secret. Though, in my defense, I must make it known that she does have an audience. Young girls come out in droves for my fiction. It's plain and simple: If you don't like Mary? Read slash fics:) *goes to find some…*

Also, thanks to everyone who took the time to review. It's nice to know people are reading this, and what's more, enjoying it. I truly appreciate all your kind words.

Cheers

~*~*~*~

Elizabeth wept openly into Will's arms, her sobs echoing in the empty hall. "They can't do it, Will! He's our friend! He saved my life! He saved your life! We're in debt of him! Please Will, we have to do something!"

"Hush love. I know it hurts, but there's naught we can do." Will pulled her closer, enveloping her in his strong arms. "Jack has been charged with high treason in the British Court. It's the nobles in London that put the price on his head, and those nobles want to see him dead. In the past year alone, The Black Pearl has been responsible for sacking well over a hundred ships! Some of those ships carried precious jewels and gold for bartering with the natives in the Northern and Southern America's. Jack's not satisfied with merchant ship attacks anymore. He's attacking ships that sail for diplomatic missions throughout the British Empire. The Lords in England are scared love. They're scared. They've invested a great deal of money in the New World, and they can't afford to allow Jack to steal it." 

"I don't care what he's done, Will! I know he's a pirate, and I have accepted that about him. He's taken money, and armory, but they left survivors Will! Jack hasn't killed anyone, at least not in cold blood. We have to help him! Please help me." She pulled out of his embrace, her eyes wild with desperation.

"Come here Liz." Will asked softly. She returned to him, once more falling into his embrace. He held her tightly, for he knew what he was going to say would break her heart. His own eyes welled with tears, thinking about the loss of his friend. 

"Elizabeth," he whispered. "I love Jack. He was like a brother to me, maybe even a father. You know that I would never willingly abandon him, but if I so much as raise my voice in protest over his execution, they will put me away. Norrington told me so himself. I am not permitted to attend the execution, nor will I be permitted to so much as lay eyes on Jack Sparrow until after he is dead. Liz, I love you, and I know what this means to you, but I am not willing to sacrifice you, or allow you to come to harm over Jack. It's simply not going to happen." He kissed her temple softly, holding her trembling body close. He could feel her tears through his tunic. She sniffed.

"I love you Will. But you have no right to govern me. I will help Jack. I cannot simply sit back and allow them to kill him."

Will's eyes darkened considerably, his temper, usually held in check, coming to the surface.

"When we took our wedding vows, I relinquished the line where you were instructed to obey me. I never made you promise to obey me, as I knew you were not capable of making such a promise. But Elizabeth, listen to me! You cannot forsake your existence for the life of one pirate. Jack would never allow it, and I certainly won't. Think about Jack, Liz. He'd be devastated if he knew you gave up everything for one hopeless attempt at saving his life. Think about the consequences!" He all but shouted.

"How can you sit back and do nothing?" She asked, confusion coloring her voice and her eyes. She drew away, to the other side of the room, distancing herself from the stranger before her. The man sitting before her was not the man she'd married. The man she'd known would not play it safe at the expense of a friend's life.

"I never intended to sit and do nothing. Elizabeth, you have to understand that actions can be taken indirectly as well. The right words dropped in the right ears can work wonders." He replied softly.

"What are you talking about?" She asked, bewildered.

Will looked around, watchful of peeping eyes and hungry ears. "I've sent word to the Pearl. I know that the crew will do everything in their power to get here in time for the execution. It's out of our hands Elizabeth."

"But, even if you'd sent word a week ago, when Jack arrived, they'd not reach us in time. You don't even know where they are! No one does!" She hissed. He pressed a finger to her lips, quieting her. His chocolate eyes gazed upon her, and she was so close to drowning in them.

"I didn't send word a week ago. I sent word the day I knew Commodore Norrington held the deed for Jack's arrest. That was three weeks before Jack was even captured. He knows, Elizabeth."

"Deed for his arrest? Since when was a deed necessary for the arrest of a pirate?" She shook her head, confused again.

"Since the bounty was set at five thousand gold pieces and immunity of the British court." He replied sagely.

"Immunity? On whose authority?" She cried, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"The British Crown, love." 

~*~*~*~

Twas' a sunny day in Port Royal. The sky was as blue as mermaid's tears, a comfortable breeze coming in from the open sea. At least, that's what Jack made of it inside his prison dwelling.

Jack had recovered some of his former strength during his weeklong stay at the Port Royal Prison facility. At least he now had enough strength to stand on his own two feet without assistance. If a man was to be led to his death, he ought to have at least the dignity of his head held high before the end. 

Commodore Norrington had gone to great pains to ensure that Jack survive his imprisonment. For one thing, he was in an upgraded cell, if one could call it that. This "room" at the "Hotel Jailett" was quite lavish, even considering Jack's tastes. 

Healers had been brought in to mend Jack's broken body, and he'd been thoroughly cleansed, his wounds treated and dressed. They had bathed him twice that week, and a nurse had cut the knots from his scraggly hair. They'd brought him three meals a day, and ensured he'd seen plenty of bed rest. The pneumonia, while not completely cured, was disappearing from his lungs. Apparently, the natives of the isle knew of an ancient remedy for the ailment. 

It was the finest treatment Jack had received in his entire life. It was rather ironic, that the same people who had cured his illness were the ones parading him to hell. Earlier that morning, he'd inquired as to why he'd been treated so well. Apparently Norrington was looking forward to seeing him hang, and the execution would not have been as entertaining or satisfying if Jack were unable to make a stand. 

It was a rather unsettling thought. 

Stretching out on the cot, he wondered idly what it would take to get a bottle of rum. He knew better n' to push his luck, but as a dying man's last with, perhaps one of the guards would take pity on him.

He was countin' on it. He then wondered what ad' happened to young William and Elizabeth Turner. As yet, neither one of the youths had made any effort to see him. He'd kind of been expecting a breakout, and was disappointed that he'd seen no action form his friends as yet. But then, the Turner's were young, likely expecting children soon. William was not stupid. The young man knew his game well, and would play accordingly.

Elizabeth however, was a different story. She was far too feisty to simply sit on her arse while someone was in need of her aid. Aye, if anyone would make an attempt to set him free, it would be that young woman. God bless her. She was, however, far too trusting if him. She believed him a man redeemed of his past crimes, and while Jack had his days where he agreed with that notion, he had just as many where the idea of him becoming respectable was laughable.

Today was one such day.

A sly grin broke upon his lips as he heard the unmistakable voice of commodore Norrington down the hall. The voice grew louder, closing in on Jack's room. Jack stood, mock bowing to the Commodore as he came to a halt before Jack's chamber door.

"Aye, Commodore, tis a pleasure ta sees ya. Yer looking well me good man. To what does a scoundrel such as myself owe ye for the occasion?"

"Hmm, yes." The Englishman sniffed. "It's good to see you've regained you sense of humor Mister Sparrow."

"If ye pardon me sayin', sir, there's nothin' humorous about this situation. The hostility between us is breakin' me heart, if ye know me meanin'." Jack winked, his charm switching into high gear. "I was about ta be makin' a request of yer overwhelming hospitalities, and see about gettin' meself some rum. Tis a dyin' man's last wish, after all."

"Rum? Do you hear that gentlemen?" Norrington addressed the soldiers flanking him. "Mr. Sparrow would like some rum. See to it that a bottle of Port Royal's finest is brought to him immediately. We wouldn't want him to die of thirst after all our efforts."

"I thank ye, Commodore." Jack saluted the Englishman, his eyes filled with mirth.

"Well, don't thank me too soon Mr. Sparrow." Norrington clucked. "It seems you've worn out your welcome here in the infirmary. I believe it had something to do with Miss Bowen, your attendant this morning? She reported an act against her honour Mr. Sparrow, and I do not take such disrespect of my staff kindly."

"Twas nothin of the sort, I assure ye. The Lady had some difficulty adjustin' the buttons of her dress. I kindly offered my services." Jack smiled. "I'm a man of me word, Commodore." To demonstrate, Jack placed his hand over his heart, and sworn his sincerity.

"Gentlemen, if you will escort Mr. Sparrow to his new chambers?" Norrington ordered, and then stepped back to observe.

They opened the door to the cell cautiously, a band of six surrounding the pirate on all sides. Jack wasn't concerned however, as he'd taken more than six at a time before. The key was that they'd opened the door, and he wasn't about to let the opportunity escape him.

He threw his fist into the jaw of the first man, sending him to the floor, but before he could get much further, a pair of arms encircled him from behind, effectively preventing further movement. The guard who held him was strong as an ox, and his hold was tight. Jack fought for breath, but it wouldn't come to him. The guard he'd knocked to the floor was before him now, his bloody nose and scuffed uniform evidence of Jack's minor victory. 

Too late, Jack remembered that he'd only recently recovered from severe pneumonia, as the angry guard's fist connected with his gut, forcing all air from his lungs. The other guard released him, and he tumbled to the ground, struggling for breath. 

He felt something hard connect with his side, and then his head, and for a moment, he saw stars swarm before his vision. He felt them pick him up and drag him somewhere, though the brutal journey wasn't long. Tossing him into his new chambers with no regard for his well being, he heard their mocking laughter. 

Finally catching a breath, Jack managed to utter as they moved to make way down the corridor. "What about me rum?"

"Think, Mr. Sparrow, in less than twelve hours you will be hanging from the highest mast in the Port, your body displayed for all to see." Norrington announced. "You have no need for rum. Now, I encourage you t think back upon your pathetic existence, and be at peace with the knowledge that it was I who caught you. Good day, Mr. Sparrow."

~*~*~*~

"You have deceived me, Montgomery, and I'm not the type of man to take deception kindly."

"How have I deceived you, Commodore? Pray tell, I do not understand where these accusations come from." 

Norrington paced his office, the leather chair at his desk no longer comfortable. He'd arranged to meet with Montgomery to discuss the arrangements for his marriage to Abiageal, but instead, he found himself arguing a way altogether out of the marriage. After having seen Abiageal, he wasn't sure he would be able to attend to her needs. She certainly didn't meet the requirements to attend to his. 

"Abiageal is not your daughter, is she Mr. Montgomery?"

Montgomery swallowed. "I thought I'd made that clear sir. She is in fact my wife's child, sired by my wife's first husband."

"You did not tell me she took after her father in appearance. You led me to believe she was as her mother is. I was rather shocked when I met her, seeing her to be much of my height, and nothing like her mother."

"Is that what this is about? Abby isn't pretty enough to be your wife? Well, I'll admit, she is no Elizabeth Swann," Norrington stiffened at the mention of Elizabeth, "but Abby's a wonderful, generous woman. She has a great deal to offer a man such as yourself."

"I'm afraid I am not the type of man to fully appreciate Abiageal's charms, and as such, I must withdraw from our agreement."

"You cannot do that!" Montgomery stood, his face full of anger. Taking a deep breath, Montgomery continued. "We had a deal! Please sir, reconsider. I want my daughter to be happy, and this might be her only chance."

Norrington paused, and re-seated himself at his desk. 

"I am afraid my decision is final. I am not the right man for Abiageal. I'd risk much for this union, and it's a risk I dare not take. My apologies Mr. Montgomery, but if you'll excuse me, I have some important matters to attend to." Rising again, he made to usher the elder man form his office.

"Wait. What if I told you that the risk wasn't so great? That Abiageal had more to offer to a prospective husband than beauty? You were correct, Commodore, I wasn't completely honest with you about Abiageal's heritage."

Norrington paused, curiosity entering his eyes, and piquing his interest. Now this was interesting. He returned to his desk, leaning back into his chair. "You have my attention, Mr. Montgomery." 

With that, Montgomery sealed the deal, and sold his daughter's soul to Satan. 

~*~*~*~

"Formally engaged? Father, you cannot be serious?" Abiageal wailed, the last pieces of her heat falling into an abyss of despair. There had to be some mistake. Her father would never arrange a marriage for her without her knowledge. 

"The Commodore and I sealed the agreement this afternoon. We both signed the declaration, It's official. Dear Abby, what's gotten into you, I thought you'd be happy?" Montgomery was utterly confused. Abby was always so lonely, this was exactly what she'd wanted, wasn't it?

"Oh Lawrence, how could you?" Laura chastised. "You've gone about this all the wrong way. Certainly there is some way of breaking the agreement? I'm sure the Commodore would understand."

"There is no way of breaking the agreement. Do you know what it took to even get him to agree?" 

"That's wonderful. Not only have I been formally engaged to a man without my consent, my husband to be had to be persuaded to even make the agreement." Abby's tears were free flowing now; her choked sobs the only sound in the room.

"Hush Abby," Cate soothed. "It will be alright. Hush" Sending a glare at her father, Cate ushered Abiageal from the room.

"Well, husband mine. You've made a grave mistake this time. I don't think she'll ever forgive you."

~*~*~*~

She wanted to die. Every dream she'd ever had in her life was dead. There was no hope, no peace, and no joy. Her soul was tethered to this world with but a tiny thread, her anguish over her father's betrayal cutting deep into the fabric of her being. She briefly contemplated taking her own life, but knew better. That was a coward's way out. Cate was singing softly, rubbing her back in comfort. Her tears had long since dried out. 

"Thou shall honour and obey thy husband." 

Obey thy husband indeed.

~*~*~*~

Suggestion Box: nymuea@yahoo.com


	4. Preparations

Title: An Eye for a Bargain 4/?

Genre: Action/Romance

Pairing: J/OC, W/E, N/OC 

Rating: R/NC-17

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am serious. Even this machine is a rental. Pirates of the Caribbean, all its characters/places/things belongs to Disney. I take no credit for the recognizable. I make no profit from this.

Summary: A romance of sorts for Jack Sparrow. 

Notes: A really short one. I've divided up this chapter, as it became far too long. _Italicized words denote thoughts._

Comments: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I appreciate the help of those that picked out the more glaring errors. I've done my best to clean them up. 

I also appreciate any constructive criticism anyone has to offer. I promise to work on keeping Jack more in character. I must confess, pirate lingo and slang is much harder to write that I had thought. I've toned Jack down a bit as suggested. 

The story is coming along, albeit slowly. The R rating will come into effect shortly. To those of you waiting for smut, your patience is appreciated. 

Happy reading!

~*~*~*~

William could not help but notice the sparkle of tears on his wife's cheek, nor ignore the dampness of her sorrow on his chest. "Hush Elizabeth, t'will be alright." He soothingly rubbed her shoulders, his strong workman's hands testing the soft flesh for knots, caressing them away. He heard her sob, her breath hitching as he spoke.

"It cannot be helped Will. We have so much, and Jack has nothing. He's going to die on the morrow, and we have done naught but lie in bed."

Will sighed. It was impossible trying to reason with her when she was like this. "Liz, we wouldn't even get near the prison tonight. It's being guarded by the whole of the ported Navy. Norrington isn't taking any chances this time. However, if we leave before the sunrise, we may be able to help the Pearl's crew with whatever plans they're hatching."

"The execution will take place at noon," She whispered into the darkness, holding her lover tightly for support. "I expect Commodore Norrington will forgo the trial this time, Will. God, I couldn't bear to watch him die."

"We won't watch him die, love." He caressed her tenderly, able to offer her this one small comfort. A sudden thought occurred to him. "You know," he whispered, trying desperately to lighten the mood. "Another man might become jealous, what with your talking of Jack in our bed."

It couldn't be helped; she burst into a fit of giggles. "Did I ever tell you, that when he and I were marooned on the rum runners island, that Jack came onto me quite strongly?"

"I believe you neglected to mention it." Will replied, his brow furrowing in concern. There was a touch of jealousy in his tone, which only served to make her smile bigger. 

"Aye, he did. We'd been drinking rum for hours. Well, he'd been drinking the rum. I sipped some and disposed of the rest. He thought I was inebriated, and made a sorrowful attempt at my honour."

"Why that dirty scoundrel." Will exclaimed. "I ought to have his head!"

"He is a scoundrel isn't he? A devilish, swaggering, cocky, daring, beautiful…"

"Enough! He's a bloody pirate!" Exasperated, Will made to leave the bed.

"Aye, he is a pirate." Elizabeth caught him before he could go. "And so are you."

She sought Will's chocolate eyes, finding them wide with hope, love, and hurt. She'd hurt him? Or course not; he knew she was only jesting. Nay, he was hurt over Jack, over not being able to help his friend. 

All this time, she'd thought Will so calm and collected. She'd almost believed he didn't care what happened to Jack, but she should have known better.

Will's eyes filled with tears, and he looked away suddenly, ashamed of his weakness. "Oh Will, please don't cry. We must be strong. I can't be strong without you." She cooed.

"He's as a brother to me. The only brother I have." Will shook his head. This couldn't be happening. What if they couldn't save him? What if he died?

"Jack is a special friend, Will. He's unique. He'd have never come so far without his good fortune, and I refuse to believe that fortune will abandon him now."

William gazed at his wife, his heart lightening considerably at his words. He sat upon the edge of their bed, his heart thudding heavily in his chest. "I don't suppose we'll get much sleep tonight."

Elizabeth smiled. "No, I suppose not." She smoothed his brow, brushing his wayward curls away.

"Then let's make ready for the morn. We have a friend to rescue."

~*~*~*~

Captain Jack Sparrow lie flat on his back, gazing up at the ceiling of his tiny cell. The good Commodore was planning to hang him in a few hours. Jack smiled. The navy man could try of course, but Jack was confident of his escape. His crew'd been planning this event months ago, when William had tipped him off of Norrington's plans.

Sparrow was concerned however, that he'd allowed himself to be captured in the first place. He knew he ought to have been more careful while in Tortuga, but a good drink and fine feminine company had been a callin'. Jack Sparrow was never one to pass up an opportunity for a good drink, and the rum in Tortuga was fine indeed. He picked idly at the tunic that had been provided him. The fabric was coarse, and far too heavy for wear in the Caribbean. But then, British Soldiers were oft seen gallivanting around in heavy wool uniforms, no matter the heat. Bloody fools. Most likely, he'd been dressed from their stores, though he couldn't imagine why they would bother.

They'd treated him like a king, only to hang him like a thief days afterward. Waste a' money if ya asked him.

He spared a glance at the Iron bars that held him inside his prison. Unfortunately, there was no William Turner on the other side to set him free this time. It was probably best that William stay out of this, unlikely as it was that Governor Swann would grant the lad clemency a second time, even if the boy was his son in law. 

Jack sighed. He despised being caged up like an animal. He sat up, taking care to go slowly. His jailers had damaged his ribs when they'd transferred him to his new accommodations. Rising to his feet, he was mildly surprised to see the Commodore himself appear before his door. What was even more shocking was that the gentleman was alone.

Gesturing wildly, Jack commented. "Miss me so much Commodore? Have ya' come to tell me that you've had a change of heart? Can't send another man to the devil's throne after all?"

"Only in your wildest dreams, Sparrow." Norrington blandly replied. 

The pirate's face fell. "Well, if you've come to gloat, don't be wastin' yer time. I've got me better things ta do." He frowned. Surely there was a way out of this damned cell? 

"Important matters to attend to, pirate?" Norrington inquired. "Well, so long as you're barred in my prison, you have all the time in the world, and as a matter of fact, I've just come by some good fortune, and otherwise have no one to share it with."

"Me good man," Jack gestured. "You really do need to find yourself a woman. In fact, perhaps I can make a few suggestions?"

Norrington laughed. "It's good of you to say so Sparrow. In fact, that is my good news. As of this evening, I've become engaged."

"Engaged, eh? Why, the poor woman." Jack reseated himself on the floor, as though preparing for a long conversation. "Tell me Commodore, what's the good lady's name?"

Norrington paused. Perhaps he shouldn't divulge too much information. But then, Sparrow would be dead in the morn, so what could the harm be? "Her name is Abiageal McLeod. She's the eldest daughter of one of my wards. They are of good strong English blood. It's a fine match. She's just sailed from England, arrived only before you did. While I'll admit she's not a beauty, she does come with other benefits." The Commodore smiled. 

"McLeod, eh? Sounds like she's a good Irish girl then." Jack shook his head. "Does she know yer' marryin' her for her money?"

Norrington stiffened, his face reddening in anger. "I said naught about money, Mister Sparrow. I'd advise you to hold your tongue." 

"Ye just said that your girl wasn't a beauty. For what other reason would you wed her, if not money? To preserve your station? Last I checked, it wasn't necessary for a military man to marry. In fact, does he not perform his duties better when not "distracted" by women? The way I see it, yer marryin' this lass for her fortune, and not much else. Ye be no better an' a pirate, mate." Jack's eyes sparkled, awaiting the forthcoming denial.

Norrington said nothing. Rather, he strode away quickly, his temper getting the better of him. Sparrow was right of course. He was not much better than a pirate, at least not where Abiageal was involved. For an instant, he contemplated giving her up, going the honest route. But then his senses returned. Why should he give her up? It's not as though she'd do any better than him. Pirate indeed.

Jack smiled, a cocky grin twisting upon his lips. So the Commodore was getting married, eh? And to a lovely rich girl no less. He laughed. No doubt, the man's fiancée would be present for the hanging. 

Ah well, Jack thought. If nothing else, I'll get to see this darling damsel before I go.

He whistled then, his spirits lifting as his voice rose in song. "A pirates life for me."

~*~*~*~

Laura Montgomery winced as she tightening the strings on her daughter's corset. It had taken the better part of an hour to get it done this far. Poor Abby simply wasn't built for London fashions. Her daughter was in obvious pain, but there was no help for it. She was to make an appearance today, along with the rest of the family. It seemed Commodore Norrington had nabbed himself a particularly nasty pirate, and the brute was to meet his end at the noon hour. In honour of Norrington's achievement, Lawrence had proclaimed that the entire family was to be present for the execution. 

Laura sighed, tightening the last thread. Abiageal stood, her face pale with the effort. Even with the blasted contraption on, she hardly looked the china doll. "Why must you insist I wear this mother? I can barely fetch a breath." She gasped. 

"You know as well as I do that your dress was tailored for wear with a corset. Besides, it's only proper." Laura insisted. She wasn't about to start the argument again. "Sometimes, a woman must make sacrifices. You'd do well to learn that Abby, for your marriage will be difficult if you don't." Huffing, she withdrew the garment in question and assisted in helping Abiageal into it. Abby twitched in disgust at the sight of the gown. Whoever had ordered it had put no thought into its wearer.

It was pink, and fluffy, and utterly ridiculous. 

"I refuse to be caught dead in such an outfit. It's pink mother! You know I look dreadful in pink! Does everyone forget I have red hair that's been bleached orange in this tropical sun? I'll be the laughing stock of the entire town!"

"Don't be vain Abby, you'll look just fine."

Abby sighed. It was completely and utterly hopeless.

"Your father commissioned this dress for you, specifically for this purpose." Laura supplied, as she buttoned the back. Smoothing the shoulders, she turned Abby towards the mirror. "There you see? You look divine." Abby shuddered. She looked wretched. The dress sleeves were puffed at the shoulders, making them appear even larger than usual. The bust line was cut car too low, revealing ample cleavage, to put it mildly. Abby knew she was practically falling out of the dress. The garment was highly inappropriate, especially for the occasion. 

"Do you really think such an elaborate gown is appropriate for an execution? Is this not supposed to be a somber event? We are after all sending a man to his death." 

Laura stiffened. "He's a vile pirate, Abby, not a man. He relinquished that title the day he set out for vile deeds."

Abiageal disagreed. Every person was a subject of circumstance. She herself was a perfect example. Just because this man was guilty of crimes did not make his life unworthy of mercy. She bit her tongue on those thoughts. There was no use in starting another argument. 

"Thank you mother. The dress is lovely." Abby forced the words from her lips. 

"I'll tell your father you liked the dress." Laura smiled. "Now take a seat Abby, there is no need to overdo it. I'll send a maid to fetch you when we're ready to depart." 

With nothing else to do, Abby sat. 

~*~*~*~

Suggestion Box: _nymuea@yahoo.com_

Please review! Any comments are certainly appreciated.


	5. Take all ye can, and give nuthin’ back P...

Title: An Eye for a Bargain 5/?

Genre: Action/Romance

Pairing: J/OC, W/E, N/OC 

Rating: R/NC-17

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am serious. Even this machine is a rental. Pirates of the Caribbean, all its characters/places/things belongs to Disney. "Prospero's Speech," by William Shakespeare (The Tempest) appears in italics. I take no credit for the recognizable. I make no profit from this.

Summary: A romance of sorts for Jack Sparrow. 

Notes: _Italicized words denote thoughts._

Comments: Aye, pirate fic sure is popular these days, eh? I always was one to jump on the bandwagon:)

Thank you all kindly for the reviews. With that, let's get this ball rolling…

~*~*~*~

And now my charms are all o'erthrown

And what strength I have's mine own

Which is most faint; now t'is true

I must here released by you

But release me from my bands

With the help of your good hands

Gentle breath of you're my sails

Must fill, or else my project fails,

Which was to please. Now I want

Spirits to enforce, art to enchant

And my ending is despair,

Unless I be relieved by prayer

Which pierces so that it assaults

Mercy itself and frees all faults

As you form crimes would pardon'd be

Let your indulgence set me free.

~ _William Shakespeare, The Tempest_

If there was one thing Jack Sparrow knew he must do, it was free himself from his imprisonment. He was beyond waiting for his comrades to spring him from jail. If they had been going to assist, they'd have done so days ago. Norrington was expecting his crew, or at very least the Turner's, to do something rash at the gallows, as they'd done in the past. He'd made numerous attempts to escape the cell block, but to no avail. They re-equipped their prison, new doors, hinges, stronger walls, etc. There was no breaking out, for that he was certain. Thus far, the pirate had been unable to tempt the keys to him, the pooch bein' far to inclined to tease him instead, what with him sitting just out of Jack's reach an' all, the pirates freedom dangling tauntingly from his jaws.

Smart four-legged bastard he was. He'd even had enough wits to find his way home after the Pearl's last attack on Port Royal. Jack had'a give him credit. The poor beast had been admirable company, to say the least. He'd stuck around to listen to a few stories after all. Jack sighed. Prison wasn't nearly this bad when ye' weren't sober. The last stores of alcohol in his body had dried up weeks ago, and his good humor was fast goin' with it. He was sure, had the Commodore provided the bottle he'd been promised, his conversations with the hound would be much more interesting.

And so, Jack Sparrow sat a twiddlin' his thumbs, havin' a one sided conversation with the key hound, waitin' for the good navy men to open the door. He had after all, some experience escaping while wearing irons, and was plannin' to put that experience to good use. Planning the prison break had taken up much of his thoughts these past days, while of course taking care to rest himself for the upcoming journey. There was a tickle in his throat, had been since he'd come here. Jack wasn't a fool though; he knew said tickle was just a reminder of what lurked deeper within his chest cavity.

He was quite good at feigning wellness, he'd learned. He idly wondered if his prison stay could be extended if he were to inform Norrington of his true health?

Not bloody likely.

"So, ya see, Tortuga ain't no place for a Lady, or even a pal such as yerself." Jack finished, the lone member of his audience waggin' his tale in approval. "I knew ya'd like that one," Jack announced, his grin returning in stride. "Say, why not lettin' me outta here, eh?" He whistled to get the point across. His face fell when the dog refused to move. "I though we was pals?" The dog whined, and lay down on the stone floor. "Ye give me those keys an I'll get ye a nice blanket." The pirate promised, nodding his approval. "Do we have an accord?"

"My dear Mr. Sparrow, you are truly pathetic." 

Jack raised his eyebrows to the Commodore, tilting his head in acknowledgement of the military man's presence. "Pathetic, eh? I don't believe I e'er heard that one before." He shrugged. "Ah well, first time fer everythin'. Say Commodore, I've been thinkin' ye spend far too much time in my company, are ye certain ye don't like havin' me around?"

Norrington smiled sadly, shaking his head. "I'm afraid not Mr. Sparrow, you're going to hang in two hours, and I will watch your neck stretch."

Jack eyes widened. "I never took ye fer one so cruel sir. What about yer Lady, will she be watchin' me stretch too?" He moved closer to the gate, his hips swaying to and fro. He was pleased to have his balance back, if nothing else.

"She'll be present of course, it is her station to attend. Though I doubt she'll watch." Norrington drawled. He gazed about, a bored look on his face. "Lady's usually don't have a stomach for such events."

"She's a merciful lass, eh?" Jack drawled.

"Not likely, Mr. Sparrow. She has no use for your kind." 

"Aye, I bet I could show her what "my kind" is good for." The pirate grinned suggestively, allowing the lewd comment to sink in. The Commodore sighed. There truly was no dealing with his kind. Why waste the energy? He had better things to do. Among them, a pirate to hang and a wedding to plan. Jack smiled. "Ye have the look of a man who hasn't see enough action, Commodore. Perhaps a week aboard The Pearl on the high seas in exchange for this sad pirate's life?"

Norrington outright laughed, a rare spark of real enjoyment on his features. It only lasted a moment, but Sparrow saw it, and took duel note. "Me, aboard a pirate ship, sailing with the like's of you? What a ridiculous idea. I dare say you're getting rather desperate, aren't you. What's the matter, Mr. Sparrow? Are you afraid of the fire's of hell?"

Jack's face fell, his brow furrowing in displeasure. He had to get out of here. Now.

"O'course not!" He replied. "That's not an issue. I ain't going' to hell, what with my having a merciful side and all. The problem is that there be no bloody rum in heaven !"

~*~*~*~

The fan had been fashioned from a thick paper stock, and was hand painted with India ink. Beautiful water lilies adorned the interior, with fine detail along the edge. The handle was ivory, and the stitching along the rim was neat and precise. Tiny oriental scripture was inlaid into the ivory, carved with the utmost care. Where once, the paper had glowed with newness, crisp and sharp, it was now yellowed with age, one edge bore a mild tare, and there was a chip in the handle, with doubled as a case when t'was folded away. 

It had belonged to her mother, a gift from her well-journeyed father before she had been born. Abiageal studied the gift, handed down to her the day they'd learned of her fathers passing. She's not used it much back in England, but here in the Caribbean, such a device was not only useful, but also necessary. It was all she had of her father, and only under unique circumstances would she ever see fit to part with it. Her current discomfort was increasing with every passing moment. Her neck itched where the lace of her gaudy pink gown rubbed against it. She knew the chafing was bound to leave a mark, but she didn't care. A deep melancholy had settled over her spirit, as she made attempts to prepare herself for her fate. As of now, she was far too hot and uncomfortable, sitting here, waiting for the unknown.

Today, her engagement to the Commodore would be announced to the entire town, but not before they hung a criminal for his awful deeds.

She shuddered. Abby had never seen a man hung before, and she was distressed that what should have been such a joyful day would be poisoned by an act of execution. Not that she was joyful about her impending doom as the Commodore's wife. 

Sighing softly, she waited for the rest of her family to ready themselves for the morning festivities.

Catherine was in an awful state of unrest, and her husband was bearing the brunt of her fury. 

"Catherine, would you please calm yourself, you're making a big deal out of nothing at all." Benjamin Smith insisted. He made to force his young wife to sit, but she would have none of it.

"Relax, Benjamin? How could you tell me to relax?" Catherine fumed, pacing the room in an effort to expel some of the crude energy. "Think about poor Abby, Ben! There is absolutely no honour in this arrangement! Commodore Norrington means to make an announcement with regard to the engagement right after they hang that miserable pirate! Abiageal will be the laughing stock of the community!" 

"She'll hardly be the laughing stock, Cate. The Commodore is a good man, a respectable match. I dare say he's better than Abby ought to have been capable of." Ben replied. Too late, he realized his mistake.

"Too good a match? Benjamin Smith, how dare you say such a thing?! Abiageal is a wonderful woman, she's kind and generous, and..."

"She's hardly a blue blooded young lady such as yourself Cate. God knows who Abby's real father was. Abiageal has no family money, save what your father has provided for her. That much said, she's hardly a beauty Cate. I can think of no man who would dream of settling down with a woman taller than himself, and what's more, stockier in build than the average seaman. Cate, for Christ sake, she looks like an Irishman, not a bonny lass." 

Cate smacked him right across the face, hard enough to leave a red stain upon his cheek. "Bit your tongue, Benjamin Smith. Abiageal is my sister, and she's done more for this family than you could possibly imagine. I wish her nothing but happiness, and as much a gentleman as the Commodore may be, he's not the man for Abby."

"Cate, please listen to reason." Benjamin rubbed absentmindedly at his cheek. The shock that Catherine had actually struck him in anger had yet to wear off. "Commodore Norrington can provide for Abby. He's a good man, Cate. I'd like to believe that given time, they could reach a level of attachment akin to what we share." 

"This discussion is over, Ben. I need to speak with Abby." Cate strode from the room, leaving no room for argument. Benjamin sighed. He'd not meant to upset her, just explain the facts. Obviously, his wife could never understand. They'd been fortunate, as he'd begun courting her when they'd both been young. He'd also had the luck of coming from a well-bred family, and so there had been no argument when he'd asked for her hand. Catherine didn't realize that the life she'd been given was far from the norm. One was lucky if they could be wed for love in these 

trying times. It was a hard lesson to learn, and Abiageal McLeod was set to learn it quickly. 

~*~*~*~

They'd set out just before the dawn, the cover of darkness allowing them to ditch their dim-witted guards in pursuit of their friend's freedom. Norrington had posted a watch upon the Turner's residence, lest the young couple try something foolish in an attempt to free Captain Sparrow from the claws of fate. The pre-dawn light pierced its way through the thick haze cast by the ocean, and William and Elizabeth stole through the mists, hurrying towards The Black Pearl and her crew. 

"They ought to be right off the shore," William whispered, while he stooped low within the shadows of the trees.

"I don't see anything, Will. Perhaps they've chosen an alternate route?" 

"What alternative is there, love?" Will asked, his brow furrowing in concentration. "The plan was to meet them here, and stage an attack upon the fort."

Elizabeth sighed. Her husband could be so daft at times. "William, Norrington would have foreseen such an attack. You're telling me that Gibbs and Annamaria haven't made plans for something more elaborate? You said yourself that Jack was aware of the bounty on his head. The Jack Sparrow I know wouldn't settle for a mere prison break in the dead of night." 

Will turner smiled. She was right of course. "I don't know what they've planned, Elizabeth. Only that I was to meet them here, just before the dawn."

The two peeked out toward the water from their hiding place, but saw naught but the crashing waves of the ocean against the rocks. There was no sign of The Peal. "Perhaps we missed them? Or perhaps they've grown tired of saving Jack from the noose? Remember the code, Will." 

William sighed. "We must trust that they care as much for Jack's safety as we do, love. They're here, I know it." The young man eyes narrowed as he scanned the desolate beach. The thick morning fog left little chance of spotting any vessel, even one supposedly just off the shore. They'd better damn well be here, or else he'd be forced to bury one of his dearest friends. Why Jack had allowed the capture in the first place he would never know.

There was naught to hear in the quite of the morn than the soft mumbling of the two young lovers. Hidden away in the soft bush, the overhang of the trees covering their position to all but the swiftest of trackers. If they didn't quiet themselves soon, they'd give themselves away to unwanted company, and that simply would not do. Moving with the stealth of a cat, and years of practice, the predator stalked the couple, moving closer to their position with naught but silence for company. 

Elizabeth yelped quite audibly before Annamaria could silence her with a hand. William bore the look of an animal ready to kill before he realized his beloved was in no harm. "Bloody hell, Anna, you scared me half to death."

"If the pair of you made anymore noise, ya'd of alerted the whole of the navy to yer hidin' place." The pirate woman hissed. "Now, hush up and follow me. If this is gonna work, ye better be followin' orders, got it?"

Struggling from the pirate's hold, Elizabeth muttered an affirmative, before the threesome moved further down the beach. They hadn't much time.

~*~*~*~

Jack allowed his senses to flow outward from his persona. Closing his eyes, he imagined he was elsewhere, out on the open ocean, racing toward the horizon with the all the speed The Pearl could muster. He was a free man, free to choose, free to live, and free to love.

Aye, love. He knew that deep in his heart, he'd only felt the first stirrings of love. There was only one person in all his long years that had so much as dented the steel shield that guarded his fragile heart. But, he'd made a choice, and a regrettable one at that. He'd chosen the sea, a life of piracy and that ever-present freedom. Jack Sparrow knew, his regrets aside, that he was not capable of relinquishing that which he held most dear, even for love. 

Now, he was in his most desperate hour, and all his past choices had come back to haunt him. He was no fool. He knew it was too late to change the past, but he also held hope that he would have a chance to change his future, if even in part.

Jack sighed. His hands were bound tightly in irons, poor Norrington having chosen not to repeat his past mistakes. Jack didn't know what to make of this situation. If things had gone according to plan, he'd have been out of his imprisonment days ago. This had only led him to one conclusion: his crew had decided against the plan. Apparently, Jack Sparrow wasn't worth his weight in salt, and certainly not worth a rescue effort. He'd been a fool to allow himself to be captured, and he bloody well knew it. Now, he was facing the torturous thoughts of a man who knows that not one bloody soul has shown up to his funeral. His eyes narrowed with resolve. Perhaps he was doomed to die today after all.

The crowd was beginning to thicken, the air pregnant with distaste. These people hated him, though they knew naught of him. They'd heard tales yes, and were likely to hear of his numerous crimes in a few minutes. Tales spun to make him appear more awful than he really was. Elizabeth Turner had once proclaimed him to be a good man, and others over the years had been of a similar opinion. Jack wondered, was he truly a good man? For all his foul deeds, was there a spark of redemption in his soul? He looked down upon the crowd, idly wondering if these people cared that he was about to die. 

They would watch him strangle to death, if the fall didn't snap his neck first, and go about their separate ways. None of them would remember his face tomorrow, and few would recall his name. He'd become a faded memory, and over time, he'd disappear altogether.

"You are present today to witness an act of justice in accordance with the laws set down by the British Crown. Jack Sparrow, known pirate and thief, will be hanged until the moment of death, as punishment for his numerous crimes against the Empire."

Jack smiled. They never introduced him properly on such occasions. 

He continued to scan the crowd, praying for some sign of relief. There had to be someone with merciful eyes in the lot. Once he found them, he wouldn't look elsewhere. T'was best to die with that sight in eye than the merciless black hatred many sported.

Jack grinned as he found an even better sight for his attentions. There was the Commodore himself, proud in his navy whites, standing in accordance with his position, atop the stone wall, his eyes locked on none other than the pirate himself.

Jack grinned, and tipped his chin in acknowledgment. His attention was then drawn to those around the Commodore. There was Governor Swann, dignified gentlemen as always. The Governor was also Jack's first sighting of mercy, his eyes pleading with Jack for forgiveness. Jack nodded accordingly. He'd not let the man go with a guilty conscious. That wasn't his style.

It was with great interest however, that Jack noted the young lady standing to the Commodore's right. She stood a pace behind the officer, her head bowed solemnly in respect. She was outfitted in the most disastrous excuse for a dress Jack had ever seen, and he'd been around. Jack almost laughed at the absurdity of the sight, but bit his tongue just in time. She wasn't exactly a homely girl, but from Jack's point of view, she was hardly a doll either. Poor darling. She stood at almost the same height as Norrington, and her shoulders were quite broad. T'was a shame she had to wear such an ugly garment, the puffs of the shoulder sleeves doing little to help her visual condition. It was her hair that sparked his interest. He'd always had a soft spot for red heads, and the fiery orange main this one sported caught his eye. Jack sighed. He pitied the poor thing, being forced to live under the command of the Commodore for the rest of her life. Arranged marriages ought to be outlawed, especially to the likes of the Commodore. The man already had an extensive fortune, gifts from the British Court from his exemplary record of service, why he needed to invest himself in a union with this poor child was beyond the pirate's ability to imagine. "Aye, there must be more to it then." He muttered. _More to it indeed. What have ye got planned, Commodore? How much is this poor girl goin' to suffer for your goals?_

"You still have a chance Sparrow, ye've gotten' yerself outta tighter binds an' this one." Jack smiled. He knew that voice, could recall it anywhere. It's come from below, close to the platform. He dare not look in that direction, lest he give his rescuer away. A chance, eh? The 

rusted wheels in his head started turning, if ever so slowly. He was getting out.

~*~*~*~

It was her first attendance at a public execution, and she would rather have been anywhere else, so long as she didn't have to watch this man die. She'd recognized him as the poor soul who'd been wrestled into Norrington's custody that evening shortly after her arrival. He'd been poorly mistreated during his captivity, and she could see the swell of bruises on his being even now, as he stood with his head held high, awaiting his death with as much dignity a man in his position could have.

He was horribly thin, his garments hanging loosely from his gaunt frame, and his cheekbones jutted sharply from his face.

"Commodore? Might I ask as to why this man wasn't executed upon his arrival in Port Royal?" It was bold of her to ask, but she had to venture the chance. T'was better to test the waters now, and see where her place truly was with him.

Norrington stiffened upon hearing her soft inquiry. Many of those under his command had asked much the same question, and thus far, he'd not yet been forced to answer it. "I don't believe such matters are important Miss McLeod." His reply was clipped and to the point, and his gaze never wavered from Sparrow.

"Now Commodore, I believe the question to be quite valid." Governor Swann added, his obvious curiosity coming into play.

Abiageal was surprised at the governor's defense of her inquiry. Her eyes widened slightly at the older gentleman, who merely smiled softly in response. Inwardly, Abby grinned. The Commodore spent a great deal of time in the company of this man. Perhaps there was a side to him she had yet to discover? A new optimism sprouted in her heart, and died shortly thereafter upon hearing Norrington's reply. "If you must know, Sparrow was in no condition to stand trial upon his arrival. His rehabilitation was necessary, lest he kneel upon the gallows unawares of his capture. I've not spent the last year of my life hunting the dog for him not to recognize that I've won."

Abby remained silent, swallowing her reply before she could damage her position further. She would never understand men. It was all a game to them, nay? Life and death, a treacherous balance, leaving no room on the playing field for those of merciful hearts and generous souls. She wanted to leave, and now.

Her hearing sparked as she picked up on Captain Sparrow's list of crimes. How interesting. She'd not heard mention of murder or rape, only theft, impersonating an officer and members of the clergy. Sparrow was a mere thief, a savvy individual whose luck had run out. An evil man indeed. The drum roll began, and she closed her eyes tightly, unable to watch the breath seep 

from the man's chest, unable to watch the loss of his life.

~*~*~*~

Jack never saw it coming. Whatever it was, it certainly didn't fit in with the plan. Not his plan at least. The drum roll had begun somewhere off in the background, and everything appeared to be happening in slow motion. He felt the floor drop from beneath his feet, but it took awhile for it to register in his clouded mind. _This is it then, tis been fun. _The rope pulled tightly around his throat, gripping into the fragile flesh. His heart had spend up, his body loaded with adrenaline. It pounded in his ears, a steady rhythmic thump, like the beat of a tribal drum; the ancient rushing sound of life struggling before it is quelled. T'was all he heard, and his vision had blurred beyond use. _Drink up me 'earties, Yo Ho!_

Jack Sparrow hung from the noose, and could feel nothing but his own lifeblood seeping away. He became detached from the world he'd known as home, and noticed nothing of the chaos that had erupted around him. As the blackness overtook his soul, he had no time to think, no time to consider.

The game was over, and he'd just lost.

~*~*~*~

Suggestion box: nymuea@yhaoo.com


	6. Take all ye can, and give nuthin’ back P...

Title: An Eye for a Bargain 6/?

Genre: Action/Romance

Pairing: J/OC, W/E, N/OC 

Rating: R/NC-17

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am serious. Even this machine is a rental. Pirates of the Caribbean, all its characters/places/things belongs to Disney. I take no credit for the recognizable. I make no profit from this.

Summary: A romance of sorts for Jack Sparrow. 

Notes: _Italicized words denote thoughts._

Comments: The escape plans were laid by the wonderful Quinn, whose efforts provided me with much needed inspiration to get this bloody chapter written. If not for her, poor Jack's neck would be stretched, and we'd have no story left for our mutual enjoyment. For those who like what they read here, I would suggest you take a look at Quinn's "Landlovers." Beautiful piece of work, if I do say so myself.

*Tips hat in recognition of Quinn's work. * Thank ye mate! 

~*~*~*~

Abiageal opened her eyes at Norrington's shout. She felt herself abruptly thrown aside, a swift tumble that sent her to her knees. Looking up, she was shocked at the sight down below on the gallows. Sparrow had hung for all of a moment, and now lay beneath the platform, surrounded by civilians. She watched in amazement as her fiancée bounded towards the fallen criminal, wondering how such a thing had happened. Confused, she allowed Governor Swann to help her to her feet. What was happening? Had the pirate planned an escape? Had they hung him with faulty gear?

"I'm of the opinion this scene is no place for a lady such as yourself, Miss McLeod. Things are about to erupt, and I believe it would be best if you followed me." 

Abiageal nodded numbly, her eyes never drifting from the gallows. Governor Swann took forceful hold of her arm, and began to steer her away from the ruckus, and toward the safety of the town.

~*~*~*~ 

It happened too fast. All I could see was Jack, struggling for life at the end of his rope. Jack, once a vibrant life force, was fighting a losing battle against the reaper's iron fist. His life was flickering in and out, such as a candle when it struggles to stay aglow. My only thoughts in that moment were saving my friend. The world was many things, but it surely wouldn't be the same if we lost Jack Sparrow. Things had obviously not gone according to plan. The rope ought to have been slack, but it appeared to be doing its job well enough. Perhaps my decision was rash, and I didn't think it through, but to hell with the consequences. So long as Jack was free from that cursed rope, I knew he'd find his own method of escape.

As a raced forward to free him, my mind flashed to my beloved Elizabeth. I briefly wondered how she would fair when Norrington had me hung for assisting in Jack's escape.

I once said that my place was between Norrington and Jack, and sure as I meant it that day, I mean it now. 

I would never hold my wife in my arms again. I'd never again make love to her while the raindrops pattered outside our bedroom window. Never hear her soft sighs, or taste her sweet breath. Was this choice worth such a loss? Was saving my friend worth the loss of a life with my dearest wife? I didn't have time to decide. Apparently, I didn't need to. The choice was made for me.

Cotton, attired in the robes and cowl of the hangman, came out of his daze and cut the thread that held his captain afloat. Jack tumbled to the Earth, his body hitting the stone with a crack.

The sight of my dearest brother gasping for breath on the cobblestones broke something inside me. Captain Jack Sparrow is a pirate, yes, but, as my wife always said, he is also a good man.

I prayed for his soul, prayed that the breath would return to his battered lungs. If nothing else came of this, Jack had to survive. We'd risked so much not to ensure success in this venture.

William was on his knees at Jack's side in an instant. The pirate was having a hard time catching breath, a combination of his pneumonia weakened lungs, and his near death experience in the noose. Gasping, Jack allowed Will to help him up, ever grateful for the young man's presence. "What' the devil is goin' on" he rasped, his voice course, his breath ragged. 

Will started when Jack began to vibrate in his arms, convulsions racking the pirate's body. This wouldn't do at all. That'd been too close. Jack had almost died. "Jack, listen to me. We must get you out of here and now. We don't have time, Norrington is coming, and the whole of the ported navy will be on our tale in a matter of seconds."

Taking a deep breath, grateful to the gods above when the air finally reached his lungs, Jack made to stand. He leaned heavily upon Will, struggling to achieve a balance. _And bloody hell, ere I just got to walkin' again proper yester eve'._

"You must have a plan Jack! It's not like you've had no time to think over a possible escape." William cried, exasperated at the captain's dazed expression.

"Listen whelp! Me own life just flashed before me eyes, would ye give me a moment's peace!"

William frowned. This was not the jack Sparrow he knew. There wasn't time to contemplate the situation. They had to make haste. "We don't have time Jack."

Sparrow nodded, finally digesting the scene around him. The crowd was in a panic, confusion washing over their faces as they wondered where the soldiers had gone. The civilians rushed around, trying to escape the walls of the fort with little success. Jack noted that several members of his crew had taken position on the upper walls, and they were all heavily armed. "Where be the bloody navy?" He asked.

Will smiled. "We took care of a few of them. Don't worry about it, Anna will explain later. It's up to you to get yourself past Norrington, and he's headed this way."

Thinking fast, Jack hobbled in the opposite direction of said angry Commodore, William trying his best to keep the pirate on his feet. "I think I can manage, mate. Get yer ass home to yer wife, and don't want you apart of this."

"We're already apart of this Jack. Elizabeth is helping prepare The Pearl for your departure."

"Aye, and the Commodore didn't see Elizabeth help me to my feet, did he? Get whelp, and get goin' quick. I don't want you riskin' your tale for ol' Jack. Not when you got a future to be lookin' forward to. Remember boy, I am, Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy?" Each word was a struggle for the older man. T'was better not to chat right now it seemed.

Nodding his understanding, and knowing this might be the last time the two saw one another, Will made a mad dash toward the exit. Perhaps his mind was elsewhere, but he certainly wasn't expecting to crash right into his father in law. "William? Now how did I know you were involved in this insane venture?" The Governor inquired, an edge in his voice that denied argument.

"Sir, if you please, now isn't the time." William pleaded. He felt a weight upon his back, and turned to see Jack standing behind him. Well, he was almost standing, using Will for support yet again. 

"Sorry mate, but once again, yer between me and my way out." Jack smiled weakly. This little adventure was costing him dearly, his physical health wearing thin. He reached for the pistol strapped to Will's hip. 

"Governor Swann, so nice ta be seein' ya again!" He waved the weapon in greeting. 

The Governor took a step back from the pirate, nervous about his motives. He'd not time to think before Jack's eyes fell upon his companion, and darkened with pleasure. Sparrow smiled, a wicked grin widening across the planes of his face. "Well, if it isn't Miss McLeod. Milady, I don't believe we've yet had the pleasure."

Abiageal hadn't said a word until that point, and instinct told her it would be best to keep her words to herself. She could hear the Commodore shouting in the background, but her attentions were focused on the man directly in front of her. He was practically leering at her, his eyes grazing over her body, making her skin crawl. A shiver raced up her spine and she had to force herself to breathe. T'was his eyes mostly, that held her attention. They were dark, tinted with insanity. Or was it desperation? She couldn't really tell. 

"Halt!" Norrington called, approaching the scene with a small brigade of soldiers, each one heavily armed. Jack Sparrow almost laughed. This was too bloody easy. Grabbing hold of the young lady in front of him, he whipped her around, using her to shield himself from perspective gunfire. His ironed hands on either side of her shapely neck, the chain link pressed savagely to her throat, and his pistol pressed tightly at her head, he addressed the Commodore.

"Aye Commodore, here be a familiar scene, eh?" He laughed, a hearty cackle, even with his strained voice. "Let's switch it up a wee bit, just for kicks." He turned Abby in his arms, and placed a rough kiss upon her lips. He devoured her sweet, innocent flavor like a man starving to death. Her lips were soft and supple, like flower petals dripped in early morning dew. In her state of shock, Abby had made the mistake of opening her lips, and Jack took advantage, ravishing her mouth with his tongue. It only lasted a few seconds, but it felt like hours, and he was loath to stop. Like hell this girl had nothing to offer a man but money. "Sorry mate, I couldn't help myself." He addressed the Commodore, who'd turned a delightful shade of purple is his fury. "Seems I got me arms' full of yer woman yet again, mate. I confess, I never understood it meself, but the women just can't keep their hands to themselves when Cap'n Jack Sparrow's 'round." He smiled, his grin growing wider when he noticed the trembling of the body in his arms. He pressed the pistol tighter against her temple, drawing a whimper from her lips. "Aye, luv, I don't mean you any harm. Tis' nothin' personal, yer just gonna help me escape, savvy?" 

Abby paled. This could not be happening. She was not being held as this savage man's hostage. 

"I demand you release her immediately Sparrow." Norrington stammered. He'd lost his calm demeanor. Jack had just dishonored him yet again, and had made the gesture personal.

"Now why would I be doin' that?" Jack despaired. Were all soldiers this daft? "The game is still on, Commodore. Look's like I'm winnin'."

He drew the girl closer, and stepped away from Norrington and his men. "I wouldn't be followin' me. Seein' as how this young lady's worth so much to ye, ye best be doin' as I say. Lest I do somethin' 'unfortunate.' Savvy?" The pirate then bolted, taking his hostage along for the ride.

Gillette came up beside Norrington and sighed. "He's done it again, sir. I can't for the life of me figure out how, but he's done it."

Norrington scowled at him, his eyes a storm of anger. "Your comments are neither warranted nor appreciated."

"My apologies Commodore. But I should add that that's the best bloody pirate I've ever seen."

Despite his foul mood, Norrington couldn't help the small smile that cracked upon his lips. "Indeed."

~*~*~*~

The Pearl's crew had followed Jack's lead out of the fort. Jack had held the girl close until they'd reached the beach, and then ditched her in favor of a rowboat, and Gibbs flask. He downed the bitter drink, allowing it to drain back into his body, pleasant warmth settling into his stomach. He called to Abby, whom he'd left in a heap on the sand. "My apologies luv, but it never would have worked between us. We're just too different, you and I. Give me love to that fiancée o' yers. Needless to say, I'm afraid I won't be available for yer weddin'. Cheers luv." He saluted the dear girl, and turned his attention toward his ship.

He was free again.

Abby watched as the pirates rowed away, headed off towards some secreted vessel. Salty tears flowed freely down her face, and she made no effort to stop them. What had just happened? How had such a thing happened? She released a choked sob, and buried her face in hr hands. The man had just used her to forward his own ends. She was disgraced. So involved was she in her won sorrows, she failed to notice the approaching footfalls. She jumped when she felt a soft hand on her shoulder, and looked up into the comforting eyes of William Turner. Though she didn't know the man very well, his presence calmed her nerves significantly. "Miss McLeod, are you alright?"

She wiped her tears away from her face, and nodded. "I'll be alright."

"If it helps Miss, you ought to know that Jack would have never done anything to bring you harm. He's not that kind of man." William supplied, doing his best to set things right with her. "Let's get you back to your family Miss."

"You know him well then?" Abiageal asked, as William helped her to stand. Her curiosity toward the man seemingly natural as far as Will was concerned.

"Yes, I know him. We're friends. That's why I helped him escape. He's a good man, Miss. I assure you."

"Then, explain to me, Mr. Turner, how you've allowed a friend of yours to dishonor me. What have I ever done to any of you to deserve such treatment," she cried, her fists beating into his shoulders. 

"Miss, please relax. There's naught can be done about that now. Jack meant you no harm, and I daresay if anyone's reputation has been tarnished this day, it's that of Commodore Norrington."

"Commodore Norrington is my fiancée!" Abby replied, her shoulders sagging with resignation.

"Really? Now that does make things interesting doesn't it?" Will was more surprised than anything else. What an interesting development. This certainly put things into perspective. He wondered what Norrington would have to say about Jack's earlier display, and silently prayed poor Abby wouldn't bear the brunt of the naval officer's frustrations.

~*~*~*~ 

They were arguing something fierce over their next destination, various suggestions flyin' here and there, every man wanting to make one stop or another. All had investments in different ports, be it good ale, food, or company. 

Jack sat on deck, relief spreading through him like a wild fire. He'd almost lost his life today, and he'd rather not be repeating such an event if it could be helped. Still, even safely aboard The Pearl, something nagged at him, lurking in the back of his mind.

"I don't care where we go," Annamaria intervened. "Just get us the hell outta here."

"We depart immediately then, eh Cap'n?" Gibbs inquired. "Lads, raise the anchor, we got places ta go and people ta see."

Captain Sparrow considered the order, instinct telling him he'd better not run away just yet. No. Something was wrong, and he couldn't leave until he found out what it was. "Nay Mr. Gibbs. I have unfinished business in Port Royal as yet, and I cannot depart until it is dealt with." Sparrow replied, his gazed fixed on the island, no trace of emotion upon his weathered face.

"Jack, are ye daft?" Gibbs exclaimed. Sparrow's entire crew stared at the Captain, at loss for words. Sure, the man had done some crazy things before, but he'd clearly gone off his rocker this time. "We just helped ye escape from yer own execution. Norrington will be huntin' for ye somethin' fierce."

"Aye, I know." Jack replied, his voice heavy. "But he certainly won't be expectin' me ta stay on the island, now will he? I want the lot of ye lot ta take The Pearl and sail east. Give me two days from sunrise, that outta give me enough time ta takes care of things."

Annamaria broke her silence then. "What sort'a business is this Captain? Be it so important to risk yer neck?"

"Let's just say it be a private affair to be dealt with between a friend and I, savvy?"

"But the Turner's bid ye ta flee." Gibbs pointed out.

"Aye that they did. This has naught to do with Will and Elizabeth, even tho' I never got a proper goodbye to em'. Just go. Give me two days, and I'll meet ye back here. I'll explain the rest then."

He departed The Pearl with haste, stopping in his cabin for only a moment to retrieve a few belongings before he rowed back to shore. All the while, he wondered exactly what he was going to do with himself, and how he was to explain his actions later.

~*~*~*~

Suggestion Box: nymuea@yahoo.com

Please review! All comments are certainly appreciated.


	7. Tainted Love

Title: An Eye for a Bargain 7/?

Genre: Action/Romance

Pairing: J/**OC**, W/E, N/OC 

Rating: R/NC-17

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am serious. Even this machine is a rental. Pirates of the Caribbean, all its characters/places/things belongs to Disney. I take no credit for the recognizable. I make no profit from this.

Summary: A romance of sorts for Jack Sparrow. 

Notes: _Italicized words denote thoughts._

Comments: This one's a bit shorter. Now that I've plowed my way through the escape, the story moves on. Your reviews have been most kind, and I appreciate all your comments. Happy reading!

Landlovers update: Quinn's story, "Landlovers" has since been re-titled "Lost Flower." Also, in light of recent changes here at FF.net affecting pen names, Quinn now goes by Quintette. I highly encourage you all to look into her work. She's a master at her craft. Cheers Quinn!

~*~*~*~

The Montgomery household was quite, the late hour silencing the cries of the babes, the swell of the waves against the not so far off beach sending the family into restful slumber. 

All save one member of course, who was plagued with vivid recollections of the events of the morn. They'd allowed Jack Sparrow to escape, not that the Commodore and his men had had much of a choice. Curse her and her merciful thoughts. That foul beast had dishonored her; tainted her without regard for the consequences. She could still taste him upon her lips. He tasted of spice and salt, and his scent was still upon her nose, musky and alarmingly male.

His arms had gripped her with the strength of steel, and despite the absurdity of the notion, she remembered feeling safe and very well protected, even with a pistol at her brow.

How odd. Now, her stomach was twisted in a thousand knots, and she could find no rest. She was truly tainted now, victim of a pirates kiss. What man would have her? Surely not the Commodore, to say the least. His greatest nemesis had marked her, and then left her to a sour fate. If she'd been upset over her situation this morning, it was nothing compared to the fear that was vested in her heart now.

What was she to do? She'd never be acceptable for marriage here in Port Royal. Not even the lowliest of men would take one of the tainted into his bed. She was no better than a whore. Wiping the tears that had stained her cheeks, she gazed into her mirror, lost in the visage of the girl who had no hope. _What happens now? Do I return to England, and cast my fate to those none the wiser? Do I leave my family and all the promises that I've made them?_

She lifted a hand to her lips, remembering the tingle of his mouth on hers yet again. She'd never been kissed before; such an act was reserved between a man and his wife._ Why do I think on him? How is it that he has poisoned me so?_

With no hope of rest, Abby contented herself with the solace of the night shadows, casting her grief into their awaiting arms, knowing they'd breathe none of her secrets, and share none of her tears. T'would be a long while before the morn. 

~*~*~*~

__

Yer a bloody fool, Jack Why play his miserable game? You've won the battle, no sense in stayin' round for the war. Must be ye've gone soft. Not much room in this world for yer kind anymore, eh mate? Ye best be takin' all the fun that can be had while it still be around. This Commodore, he's too much like you fer yer own likin' me thinks. 

"Aye, and if ya'd quite talkin' to yerself, Jack, the world'd be a much better place." The Captain cursed himself. He wouldn't be very surprised to head back to where he'd left his ship two days from now and discover they'd left him here to rot. God knew he deserved it. Truth of the matter was, he sure as hell hadn't thought this through. Now that he was here, alone in Port Royal, he hadn't much of an idea on what to do with himself. He sure as hell couldn't allow being seen. There was no use in wasting a perfectly good, not to mention, dramatic, prison break. No, he certainly wouldn't allow them to catch him again. 

__

Then what the blazes are ye still doin' here? Plotting revenge? What revenge? What'd that bastard do besides his bloody job? Christ Almighty. He shook his head for the umpteenth time that day. As if the violent action might serve to clear his clouded thoughts. 

The pirate had positioned himself well out of sight, and was waiting for the sun to set. T'was interesting to note what common folk did with their day. Bustling to and fro, gathering goods from the market, some out for an afternoon stroll. He'd seen dear William wander past a few hours ago, but had chosen not to reveal himself. He might yet see Turner again, and he might not. Only time would tell. Aside from Will, there wasn't nary a face he recognized, and so the day hadn't amounted to much amusement on his part. The sun was nearly set now, and Jack figured it was 

good a time as any to start moving toward his target. _Target, ha! If ye can call it that…_

~*~*~*~

Her heart had stopped racing hours ago, yet still she could feel the anxiety associated with the morning's excitement. It was a wonder they hadn't been caught, or at least, that Norrington hadn't noticed Will's presence at the gallows. She wondered if her father would reveal their treachery, but she doubted he would. She knew her father well enough to know that if anything should happen to her, he would soon follow her to the grave. Her breath was still shaky, even after hours had passed, and there was a slight tremble in her hands. Her hands. They were strong, for a woman's hands. Glancing at them now, she knew they held far more strength than she'd been given the opportunity to demonstrate. The skin was soft, supple and cream colored after years of pampering. She knew her husband loved her hands, loved all of her for that matter. In his eyes, she would always be beautiful, a goddess. She smiled. What would she do without him? What would her life be if not for their love? Not for the first time, she thanked all gods she knew for her fortune. He was nearing her; she could hear his soft footsteps outside their chamber door, hear his muffled voice as he bid the maid goodnight. She felt his arms encircle her from behind, and she drew strength from his embrace. William. Her husband always knew when her thoughts troubled her, always knew when to leave her to her own devices, or offer her comfort. She needed comfort now, needed to feel him close. He had always been her rock, her anchor in the storm. T'was a hurricane thrashing her about now, tossing her soul and conscience in violent winds, tearing her from her foundations.

She'd saved a friend today, and she hadn't thought what the consequences would be. Gregory Norrington would be angry to say the least. What if he came after Will in his anger? She couldn't bare the thought of losing her beloved, and the knowledge that such evils might come to pass drew a whimper from her lips.

Will kissed her forehead gently, soothing her as ever he could. "It's over, love. Jack is safe once again, and we can continue down our own path, as we ought to do."

"What if Norrington discovers our role in Jack's escape?" She turned in his arms, whispered her fear into his collar.

"And if he does? Norrington is a coward, Elizabeth. He'd not dare defy your father. You know as well as I do that so long as your father is Governor of this island, we are safe." Will smoothed a loose strand of hair back from her brow, kissing her gently. "I love you." He placed soft kisses down the column of her throat, drawing her closer to his body as he did so.

"And I you." She smiled slightly. Perhaps he was right. She sighed as Will continued his explorations, his rough craftsman's hands caressing her through the bodice of her dress. He kissed her again, more passionately, his tongue seeking entrance to her mouth. Her lips were flower petal soft, and sweet as honey to the taste. He ravaged her mouth, probing, seeking dominion. When finally they parted for breath, he couldn't help the satisfied smirk that spread over his lips. She giggled. "You awful pirate. What say you scoundrel? Out to have your way with me?"

"Only with your permission, milady."

She responded with a kiss of her own that sent them reeling towards the soft pallet of their bed. 

~*~*~*~

He'd hidden himself well outside the residence, cover of darkness providing him with ample opportunity to move about without being seen. The occupants of the house had long since taken their rest, and now, naught but a single candle burned on the upper level of the house. It cast a mighty glow in the dead of night, a beacon for his newfound treasure.

He knew who occupied that room. 

Knew it so well he could taste it, just as he remembered the taste of her. 

~*~*~*~

She sighed softly as his hands sculpted her body with an assurance only time can gift. Her body was his canvas, and he knew her curves better than he knew any forge; knew how to draw soft sighs and sweet moans from her throat, and serve her a taste of ecstasy that he alone could fashion. She cried out when William's mouth came into contact with her breast, her nipple hardening instantly at the contact, the hypersensitive nub aching for his attentions. He suckled gently, as a babe was ought to do, his tongue flickering teasingly to taste her. She arched beneath him, eager for him to continue, as a fever swept over her body, all consuming in its rage. "William, I need you." She rasped, her voice heavy with desire. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, drawing him back to her for a kiss. She could feel the steel of his erection against her thigh, its presence all telling of just how much her lover held back in these precious moments. She melded her body against his, taunting him, her smooth, milky flesh heated with need.

"Elizabeth." Her name rushed from his lips, his breath catching in the back of his throat as she wrapped her slim fingers around his penis.

"Make love to me, husband mine." She whispered, her words filling the silence of the chamber, warming him even as the fire died a slow death in the hearth.

~*~*~*~

The shadows were his ally, and they were ever watchful of his back that night. Even now, as he stood outside her chamber door, listening to her soft sobs, he was unseen. His heart tumbled in his chest as he listened to her cursing his name, vile words pouring from her lips. Such an innocent voice, to be whispering such obscenities. T'was a shame. Taking his pistol in hand, he pushed the door open without so much as a warning, and in an instant he was upon her, the deadly weapon once again pressed to her fair temple, threatening to bring the darkness of the devil's abyss upon her. 

"Why Captain Sparrow, what a pleasant surprise." Her words null of emotion. Inside her heart had picked up an unsteady pace, and she was rather sure she might faint that very minute. _Have strength Abby, William Turner claims he is a good man. Perhaps I'll release you, bargain maybe?_

Jack mock bowed dramatically, ever the showman. "Always at your service, milady. Now, if ye'd be so kind as to forgive me miss, but it seems we have some unfinished business that needs attendin' to, and I might add, tis rather urgent. So, if ye'd just be grabbin' somethin' to wear, we'll be on our way, savvy?" 

Abby laughed._ Strength Abby! You're not to allow him to have his way with you._ "There's no way in hell I'll be going anywhere with you _dear_ Captain. Now, _if you'll be so kind_, remove yourself from this house immediately."

Jack stepped back, his brows arching in confusion. "Miss McLeod, I don't think yer quite understandin' what I'm tellin ye. There isn't any bargainin' to be made here, yer comin' wit me, whether you want to or not. Now I suggest ye cooperate, lest I do somethin' I'll be regrettin' later."

Abby stammered, "But Mr. Turner promised you were a good man, and that no harm would be vested upon me by your hand. He swore on his own good name."

"Did he now? I best be havin' meself a chat with Mr. Turner, eh? I wouldn't want the poor lad to come to harm over a stupid promise like that. The lad hardly knows me miss, and therefore, ain't the best judge of me character." He smiled crookedly at her.

"You're a liar." She challenged. "You'll let no harm come to me. What game is this you play, pirate? If you so much as lay a hand on me, my fiancée will have your hide!"

Jack laughed, stepping closer to her. His invasion of her space brought a telltale tremor to her body that she could not quell. "Your fiancée has tired several times to stretch my neck, and much to me own pleasure, he's never bin successful. Fear not, luv. He'll not be your fiancée much longer."

Her eyes widened at the comment. "What is that supposed to mean?" Tears stinging the corners of her eyes as Jack moved behind her, allowing a simple caress of her cheek as he did so. 

"Get some clothes on, and you shall find out all by yer lonesome, savvy?"

"I told you I wouldn't have any part in this demented game you play." She hissed. All coherent thought was lost to her though when she felt herself thrown forcefully into the bed, a heavy, uncomfortable weight settling atop her.

"Listen carefully luv." He whispered, his words soft, verging on gentle. If not for the presence of the pistol now embedded in her back, she might have been relieved. "Ye best be learnin' to follow instructions. I'll have my way of things this night, and if you don't submit willingly, I'll take out my anger on your relations, restin' peacefully down the corridor. They'll never know what hit them."

She sobbed, the emotional whirlwind of the day finally catching up with her. "As you wish."

"An' there'll be no hollarin' to alert anyone, understand?" As his only response was a silent head bob, he took that as a good sign. "Get dressed lass. I'll not have ye wanderin' about in bedclothes, scoundrel though I may be."

~*~*~*~

Elizabeth would never tire of this feeling. She felt safest here, protected within the armor of Will's arms. She lay beneath him now, his pulsing manhood inside her, building a sacred rhythm as each wave of pleasure took her ever closer to heaven's shores. It was pure bliss. She heard a low growl issue from his throat, as the warmth of his seed spread through her, chasing away the bitter frost of the day's trials. Her own climax toppled her over into ecstasy's sweet embrace, but she was ever thankful for William's iron grip, her anchor once again bearing her through the storm.

"I love you, William." She whispered softly, as the silence of the night descended upon them. Even in the depths of Ithil's black sea, she sought his chocolate eyes. She couldn't see them, but she trusted they were there. Snuggling closer to his warmth, she inhaled the scent of him, masculine and true. His arms encircled her, drawing her close, and the steady beating of his heart carried her off into a restful sleep.

~*~*~*~

Suggestion Box: nymuea@yahoo.com 


	8. Pledge of Allegiance

Title: An Eye for a Bargain 8/?

Genre: Action/Romance

Pairing: J/**OC**, W/E, N/**OC **

Rating: R/NC-17

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am serious. Even this machine is a rental. Pirates of the Caribbean, all its characters/places/things belongs to Disney. "Drawn to the Rhythm" was written by Sarah McLachlan and is taken from the Nettwerk records release "Solace." I take no credit for the recognizable. I make no profit from this.

Summary: A romance of sorts for Jack Sparrow. 

Notes: _Italicized words denote thoughts. _IMPORTANT: most of this chapter is a flashback. To illustrate the flashback, I've written those sequences in italics. Most of those sequences are character thoughts. I hope it doesn't confuse you too much.

Comments: Aye, tis another Sarah McLachlan song. I wonder who's a fan, eh? I've taken liberties with the lyrics, changed them about the way I hear Abby singing it in my head. 

Thanks again to everyone who's reviewed. I appreciate all your comments dearly. 

~*~*~*~

When we wore a heart of stone, 

we wandered to the sea, hoping to find some comfort there,

yearning to feel free. 

And we were mesmerized by the lull of the night and the smells that filled the air, 

and we layed us down on sandy ground, 

t'was cold but we didn't care.

Drawn to the rhythm

Hmm, hmm, hmm,

Drawn to the rhythm of the sea. 

Aye, we were drawn to the rhythm,

Drawn to the rhythm of the sea.

Hmm, hmm, hmm…

She rocked back and forth on the cold sand, humming softly to herself in an attempt to ease the ache swelling in her heart. The tide had come in but a few hours ago, the waves cresting just beyond the reach of her fingers. Anar was coming up over the horizon, reaching blindly with his scarlet arms, weaving celestial patterns with Ithil's fading kiss. A blinding fog had settled over Port Royal in the dead of night, the tattered remnants of its cover now being washed away in the morning sunlight. T'was a fresh, new day. 

A single black cloud lingered far off in her sight line, and while she could not make out its shape, the cold fist clenching her heart told her exactly what it was. The Black Pearl, ever faithful, had returned to secure its captain and the newest member of its crew. Aye, if one could call her prospective duties crewman's work. She shuddered, gazing helplessly at her newest decoration: a single band of gold braid, settled uncomfortably upon the second finger of her left hand. Such a small trinket, though it seemed to her it weighed more than any anvil in a blacksmiths shop. T'was a symbol of her newfound imprisonment, securing her more tightly than iron bars ever could.

__

We were drawn to the rhythm. She sang softly, a mere whisper against the roar of the waves. The tremor in her voice, however, was more than audible, and she winced when she knew he'd picked up on it. The 'he' being Jack Sparrow or course. Jack stood not a yard away, squinting towards the sunrise and his approaching vessel, and grumbling something about being sober. He'd not let her out of his sight since their reunion the night before last, and had only once been daft enough to allow her out of his grip. That was until this morning, when the fight in her had all but died, and she'd lost the will to run.

Now all she could do was hope someone would come to her rescue before she disappeared with the tide, never to see those she loved again. Her head was spinning, and the constant fear that chilled hr soul was now embedded in her bones. What she did remember of the past few hours was a blur. It had all happened so fast.

Drawn to the rhythm of the sea…

She stopped the song, meant to bring comfort but was now only inspiring tears. "What that ye be singin'?" She glared up at him, her distrust of him evident with the feral gleam in her eyes. She held her tongue, biting it with all her might to keep silent. The last thing she desired was conversation with him. "Aye, ye curvy shrews all be alike. Singin' all fair and teasin' with yer seaside manner. Then, the minute a man tries to strike up a talk, ye be turning yer noses up, like ye be too good fer me questions. That'll be just fine then. If ye not willin' to talk bout' it, ye best not be openin' yer mouth to sing about it either." His manner indicated nothing short of a pout, his arms crossing and uncrossing reflexively across his chest. She noticed for the first time that Captain Sparrow never really stood still. He swayed, as though his body itself were a ship, rocking to and fro with the swell of the waves. His kohl-lined eyes were narrowed now, and she distressed over his obvious temperament. She'd not meant to hurt his feelings, if such thing were indeed possible, only deter him from suggesting their "relationship," as it were, was anything more than the obvious: scoundrel villain and captive.

"I don't know what it's called, though I would assume "Drawn to the Rhythm" would constitute an appropriate title. My nanna used to sing it to me as a child." She answered. "It gives me comfort, and I would ask that you allow me this one small thing, my only device as of now for keeping the bile from rising in my throat."

The sting in her words was not lost on Sparrow, but he merely shrugged it off. T'would not be the first time a woman scathed him with her tongue, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. He'd heard worse insults from this lass in the past day. Raising his eyebrows in reproach, he turned to her, an overly dramatic display of courtesy as he bowed slightly in acknowledgment of her request. "I don't mind yer singin'. It sounds like a pretty song, and you at least have a pretty voice. Tis a relief you were gifted with some fairness from the heavens, at least." 

Abby stood sharply, her breath huffing from her chest as her face reddened in anger. "You mean to suggest my voice is the only fairness I've been 'gifted' with?"

Jack winced, clapping his hands together as if to pray._ Bloody hell, you've gone and done it now._ "Luv, I meant no insult, but yer hardly a china doll, if ye be takin' my meanin'." He smiled warmly in an attempt to soften the blow, but it didn't have the desired effect. He was forced to step back suddenly as she plowed forward in an obvious effort to slap the grin from his face, but somewhere lost her footing in the sand, and ended up in a heap of gritty lace and muslin the beach. 

Crouching down beside her, he spoke in a low, even tone. "Luv, if I was you, I'd refrain from these theatrical displays. They really don't suit your person. I never meant to insinuate that yer not a pretty thing, ye just have a certain, flavor that dotes acquirin', savvy?" She glanced up at him, a scowl on her face that did little to hide her feelings on the subject. Jack grinned broadly. "O'course, me men aboard The Pearl haven't shared a woman's company in weeks, and I doubt they'll be takin' notice of yer looks, so much as the fact yer female."

Abiageal sat up, gazing at the rumpled ruin of her dress in disgust. She hadn't put much thought into choosing attire the other night, such was her haste to remove her family from harms way. In her rush, she'd chosen the only garment she owned that would satisfactorily cover her without the need of a corset. She certainly wasn't about to ask the Captain to tie her corset strings for her. The result had been a well-worn work dress that was several seasons old. And while it certainly wasn't her prettiest garment, it had looked far better yesterday than it did now. Her coppery curls hung in wet lumps down her back, clinging to her brow in a most un-fashionable way. Of course he would think her un-pretty. First he'd seen her in that awful pink extravagance, and now a ruined moldy work dress. Not that she cared for his approval. He was just a filthy pirate after all. A sudden thought occurred to her, and it turned her stomach upside down in a way it never had before. "What do you expect of me when we board your ship, Captain? Am I to serve your crew?" She hung her head in shame as she asked her question. T'was an honest thought, she had been dishonored a number of times by this scurvy dog, why shouldn't she be forced into humility by his men? 

Jack Sparrow outright laughed, a hearty chuckle that bordered on an insane cackle. "I don't believe I heard you right, luv? Ye be misunderstandin' the situation. In case ye haven't yet realized, ye belong to me, an I don't let me crew touch what's mine. Yer role aboard me ship is for ye to decide. Remember though, for all intents and purposes, ye will remain me wife."

Wife, ye will remain me wife. Wife?

With sudden clarity, the events of the past day came back from their respective hiding places. Her memory snapped to attention as she realized exactly what she'd done, exactly what she'd been trying to deny. 

In the name of god, by the powers vested in me by the holy church, I now pronounce you man and wife. 

Jack Sparrow: feared villain, pirate, and scoundrel. Captain of the infamous Black Pearl. It appeared one could add the title of husband to his list of accomplishments. _Too much, too fast. I can't handle this._ All of her dreams were taken away from her instantly, every hope and wish she's ever had decayed quite suddenly into ash. With naught else to do, Abby succumbed. The embracing blackness was comforting, gentle even. Her last thought before she sank into its blissful hold, sailing away from consciousness, was that her knight in shining armor had come, and he rode upon the devil's wings…

"Bloody hell!" Jack cursed. "Damnable woman!" Slumping into the sand gracelessly, he contemplated his terrible luck. Only he would wed a fainting wench such as the one before him. _By god Jack, what have gone and bloody well done this time? _"I need a bloody drink."

~*~*~*~

We fell asleep and began to dream, 

when something broke the night.

Memories stirred inside of us,

the struggle and the fight.

And we could feel the heat of a thousand voices,

telling us which way to go. 

And we cried out, 

Is there no escape,

from the words that plague us so?

I now pronounce you, man and wife..

The pistol was as a knife in her back, a constant reminder that she was in a life-threatening situation. If not for the weapon, she felt confident she'd be able to foil her kidnapper, whom she'd labeled a buffoon in the last hours they'd been together. She wasn't sure, but there was something "off" about Captain Sparrow. T'was in the way he walked, or swaggered, for a better term. It was in the way he gestured wildly with his hands when he spoke, his limbs flying in every direction. The man positively defied all male laws of gravity and physics. It was also in his constantly slurred speech, though if she did her calculations right, she could determine that it had been weeks since he'd had the chance to consume a copious amount of drink. Of course, she couldn't be giving him enough credit. He had, after all, managed to escape the gallows not once, but twice to her knowledge. Commodore Norrington was a considerable foe, and if Captain Jack Sparrow had outwitted him, he couldn't be as stupid as she'd like to think he was.

She was rather surprised they hadn't been seen yet, lurking in the considerable foliage Port Royal had to offer. Thus far, she'd seen no band of troops dispatched to search for her, and it troubled her somewhat. Hadn't her family yet noticed her absence? Had they not immediately called for help?

Sparrow seemed to pick up on her train of thought. "Ye was upset yestereve, before I barged in on ye. Perhaps yer family thinks ye be needin' time to yerself? If ye'll remember correctly, I made sure to lock yer chamber door before we left."

Abby whimpered. Of course, he'd thought of everything. Though he had yet to explain himself. He'd had plenty of opportunities to strangle the life from her body, or rape and plunder her innocence, but he hadn't yet laid a hand on her. He was the strangest pirate she'd ever met. But hen, he was the only pirate she'd ever met. He certainly wasn't anything like what she'd heard or read about. Her curiosity was getting the better of her. What did this lunatic want with her? She had nothing to offer him. No wealth, and it was certainly not her beauty. 

She was completely dumbfounded, especially when, after hours of hiding in the trees, they arrived at what appeared to be their destination: the church. Why would Jack Sparrow drag her to the church? Did he plan to kill her in the house of god? Perhaps force himself upon her at the alter? Her blood ran cold at the thought. No, Jack Sparrow was nothing like the tales she'd heard in the London markets: he was far worse.

~*~*~*~

I can practically taste this girl's fear, so thick does in hang in the air between us. Obviously confused, though I certainly can't clarify things to her, I myself have no blasted idea what this is all about. She keeps lookin' at me like I's Lucifer himself, her eyes all wide, glazed even. 

What are ye gonna do, Sparrow? Ye've always prided yerself on bein' a man of chance, seizin' the day an' all that bloody nonsense. Ye know this all began as some half-witted plan fer revengin' yerself against that bloody fool of a Commodore. Tis entirely his fault, taunting ye with his ramblings and lack of good drink for over a bloody week. The man is hardly good company, savvy? Ye know deep down ye feel somethin' akin to pity for this poor girl, but she's hardly the issue here. Ye have a chance to give that bastard the kick in the arse he deserves. Why not start by ensuring Commodore fucking Norrington never gets the chance ta seize McLeod's fortunes for himself? T'would be easy enough, just rid him of a bride. She's right here, under cover of darkness, with nary a soul around ta witness. 

Nay. There are plenty of stories that fetch the wind about me, an' less that half of em' got the right idea. I've always looked out for myself, that's for sure, but lookin' out for number one doesn't mean I'm the hell spawn I've been made out to be. Truth is, I've gotten soft in my last years.

Aye, tis been many a season since ye've rightly gutted an opponent, and there's no way in hell ye've got it in you to drain the life of Norrington's girl. Ye can think about it though. 

I can think about it, I have thought about it. I've planned every last detail, but when I saw her at my execution ceremony, all the plans went out the window. She'd obviously felt mercy for me, and any person willin' to give someone like me the benefit of the doubt deserves ta keep breathin'. 

So now that ye can't kill her, and there's no way in hell you'll kill Mr. Commodore himself, ye've got to be more creative. It's all about the game, eh mate?

So I keep telling myself.

What are ye gonna do Jack, what are ye gonna do? Ye've been sittin' here fer hours in the blasted trees, hiding out, listenin' to her mewing, without a plan. That simply will not do. 

I know.

What other options do ye have? Yer a fool for comin' here with no bloody clue.

I've got the papers in my pocket. I've had em' for over ten years, and they're yellowed and worn. Too much time spent at sea, like their owner. Ol' Bootstrap an I got em' in England, all they need is a name and a signature and it's done. 

Perfectly legal, perfectly binding. Are you sure though? That "perfectly binding" clause applies to ye just so much as it would her.

That's the trick, ain't it? Though as it were, I doubt the formalities of such a thing apply in this situation. Whose to prevent me from havin' my way of things? Just cause a piece of paper says I's married doesn't make is so.

But imagine Mr. Commodore's reaction to yer weddin' of his fiancée? 

T'would be worth all the gold in the Spanish Main.

I wouldn't take it that far. Methinks ye spend far too much time obsessin' over Norrington. The whelp is hardly worth the effort. Surely you have some intimate reasons for pursuin' this arrangement?

I'm the last of my bloodline, lest I sire an heir. T'would be easy, I know many a whore over the Caribbean who'd be honored with the privilege.

Sure, but yer a pirate Jack, it's in yer blood, and naught can be done ta change that fact. There's a possessive treasure hunter in you, always present: a strong desire for ownership, control and dominion. 

That's why it never took me long to rank Captain. Is always better given' the orders than takin' em yerself.

That's why ye have those papers in yer hand. Ye want control.

I told him I'd not have use for em, but ol' Turner told me to take em' anyhow. 

He knew. Knew the thought was always there, lurkin' in the back of yer head. Those thoughts have been louder of late, haven't they? They become more defined, the older ye get. They don't have to stay thoughts anymore, Jack. 

I can have it, easily gain the upper hand. 

It appears ye've already made up yer mind. Just lookin' for a good opportunity? Or a good excuse? Time to get yerself married Jack. 

Tis as good a time as any. She's still a whimperin,' though I suspect that'll stop soon as we get inside. Then the roarin' and screamin' will take over. 

I really need to stop this. Hiding out talkin' to me onesie ain't all that fun. 

~*~*~*~

"Wake up, luv." Jack nudged the sleeping sand princess beside him. "Yer chariot awaits."

Groaning, Abby slowly opened her eyes and sat up. Her head was pounding, and a sudden bout of nausea had taken over. She sighed deeply. "I'd hoped it was all some horrible nightmare." She croaked, her voice hoarse from misuse. 

Sparrow smiled. "Nightmare, luv? Why me heart bleeds to here you say that." He mockingly griped his chest in pain. "I can be the knight in armor ye dream of, here ta carry ye away into the sunset."

She shook her head. "Captain, with all due respect," the sarcasm bleeding through every forced word. "You're hardly the man of my dreams."

"I bloody well rescued ye from that miserable military quack! What more can ye ask for?" He raged. He'd damned well had enough of her whining, simpering, complaining…

"Rescued me?! You held a shotgun to my head as I said my wedding vows! You threatened to murder the preacher! Threatened to do unspeakable things to my family! If this is what constitutes a rescue, I'll have no part of it!" Standing up abruptly, and using the last of her strength, Abiageal McLeod began to scream bloody murder. A terrible shriek that would raise the dead from their eternal slumber, begging to any whom could hear to come to her rescue.

"Would ye shut the hell up, woman? Jesus, yer hurtin' me head." Sparrow began waving frantically to the approaching rowboats, eager as ever to get the bloody hell off this cursed rock. Gibbs eyed his captain in confusion as they reached the shore, wondering again at the mysteries of Jack Sparrow.

"What the devil's goin' on, Captain?" He asked, bewildered at the sight of the banshee woman in rotten muslin, shriekin' hells wrath on the beach. It was a wonder she'd not drawn the whole of the British fleet to their location.

"Mr. Gibbs. Tis a pleasure to introduce to ye me wife, Abiageal." Sparrow announced with a wince, gesturing to Abby as he did so. Abby stopped screaming then, taking a moment to catch her breath.

"WIFE? Jack, are ye daft?" Gibbs exclaimed, the rest of the small party looking at their captain in shock. "Me thinks ye haven't had near enough rum these past weeks. Come lad, best be getting ye aboard, and some decent drink put in ye. Then ye'll get back ta thinkin' straight."

"I'm perfectly serious, gentlemen. I've taken Abiageal McLeod as my lawfully wedded, and I don't plan on leavin' these shores without her. Unless o'course, she sees fit to return to the village. I'm sure all will be forgiven, and her family and the Commodore will be perfectly willin' to overlook the fact that she's been wed to me." Jack turned to Abby with a whirl, aiming for her response.

Abiageal was at a loss for words. _That miserable dirty bastard! Look at what's he's done to you! You can't go anywhere, do anything! You're a complete and utter failure to society! A damned pirates wife! _She hung her head in shame, swallowing the last of her pride. "I'll do as you wish, Captain Sparrow. Please, refrain from telling all about our arrangement. It would be best of my parents thought me dead."

Jack raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Why little one, where's the fight in ye?"

"Tis gone, as I've nothing left to fight for." Came the simple, tight reply. She briefly allowed him to help her into the small boat, and upon being seated, immediately drew as far away from him as the small space would permit. She allowed her grief to surface as they slowly rowed away from the small island, a river of tears streaking down her puffy red cheeks, drowning out her vision.

"And we were drawn to the rhythm of the sea…"

~*~*~*~

"Is bad luck to ave' a woman on board, Cap'n." Gibbs croaked. 

Jack considered his crewman's words before reply. The ol' wives tales had more merit out on the water, and it was true, what they said about women on ships. Queer happenings follow a vessel carryin' women. "Aye, " Jack replied. "But Annamaria's been on board with us well o'er a season, and we've had nothin' but good fortune since."

"That's different!" Gibbs protested. "Anna's one o' us, not no bloody English maiden, all prettied up an pampered."

"By the look of er', this one ain't no helpless whelp of a woman. And if I ave' me way, she'll soon be no maiden either." Jack spared a glance toward his less than willing wife. He'd ordered her silent upon boarding The Pearl, and surprisingly, she'd obeyed. Odd, she'd seemed like fighter in Port Royal. Jack was slightly disappointed she hadn't put up more of a fuss. Shuttin' er' up would have been fun. Unknowingly, his eyes had darkened with emotion. It could have been lust, or perhaps an angered fueled desire. The crew wasn't so sure. After all, Abiageal had nothing on some of Jack's past conquests. Jack Sparrow had bedded beauties the world over, or so the stories claimed. Regardless, the mans reputation preceded him, and he'd had plenty of, ahem, "life experiences." It couldn't have been love either. There was no room for women in a pirate's heart. Nay, Captain Jack Sparrow was actin' somethin' odd, but none of his crewmen could pin down what it was. 

"Jack, I digress, it ain't good news." Gibbs continued pleading was wearing on the Captains nerves. 

He sighed. _You've made plenty of mistakes in yer life Sparrow, but I be thinkin' this one takes the prize. Why'd ye marry er'? Weren't satisfied with simply stealin' er' away for a few hours? Nay, ye wanted Norrington to know he couldn't ever have er. You wanted to claim er. Look at the poor thing. She's terrified. Ye took a decent, well-bred lady and made her into a pirate's wife. She'd a've been better off drownin' in the sea. _

"What's done is done. The woman stays with me."

"Are ya so sure about that captain?" Annamaria inquired. She directed them toward Abiageal for evidence. Crouched low on the far side of the deck, the woman was positively glaring at Jack, the fury in her eyes boring holes straight through him, if such things were possible. The Captain couldn't help the slight shiver that accosted his nerves. She could be frightening when her temper was up. _Good, her spirit isn't quelled after all._

"I've seen plenty o' women gaze at ye wit' stars in their eyes, Cap'n." Gibbs continued his plea.

Annamaria cut him off. "This woman ain't got no stars in er' eyes Gibbs, at least not for Sparrow, here. Nay, it's hatred in her eyes. She's gonna kill him if she gets the chance."

"There ain't gonna be no bloody chance." Jack intervened on his own behalf. "She'd better be learnin' her place, and right quick. Lest I lose me temper and do something we all regret." With that, Jack made his way over to the frightened young woman. Abiageal glared up at him upon his approach. He didn't give her the chance to speak. "Ya see' darlin', I don't mean ya no harm. You my dear are an unfortunate bystander that got herself stuck in the wrong place, at the wrong time. To put it plainly, I hate your former fiancée. I realize you've been forced here against yer will, and I offer my sincerest apologies. Rest assured that I'll be doin' everythin' in me power to make ye comfortable. However, that doesn't mean ye' be getting' yer way of things. You're to learn yer place, savvy?"

She refused to comment. She simply stared silently at the deck, her vision weaving in and out as she fought back more tears. Jack felt his frustrations mount. What was with this girl? Did she not understand? She certainly wasn't mute, her earlier display providing clear evidence of her incredible vocal talents. He huffed. "Gibbs, Cotton, take er' to me cabin please."

Abiageal's eyes widened in horror. His cabin? Why did he want her there? A thousand horror stories filled her mind at once; tales about the things pirates did to captured young ladies. He wouldn't? Would he? _Be calm Abby. You ought to be rememberin', that devil of a man is your husband now. Perhaps he'll take of his privileges?_

Was she expected to perform wifely duties for this savage? Her heart sped up and she fought valiantly against her turning stomach. No. She wouldn't let it happen. Not ever. Not with him.

Gibbs and Cotton helped the violently trembling woman to her feet. Surprisingly, they were gentle, and proceeded to usher her slowly across the ship. There was no need to rush, and she was obviously scared to death. They felt sympathy for her. A pirate vessel was no place for a woman like her. She'd only yet borne witness to one side of Jack Sparrow, and unfortunately, it was his 'less than light' side. Jack didn't really have dark side, least not that they'd seen. Perhaps with time, she'd learn that there was more to Jack than met the eye, if in fact she survived that long of course. "Come along Miss. Twill be alright, you'll see." Gibbs reassured. 

Cotton nodded his head, and his parrot squawked. "Argh, matey."

Abiageal felt her stomach turn faster, and the bile rise in her throat at the site of the Captain's chamber door. She suddenly felt dizzy, her head becoming light, and a heat enveloping her in its welcome embrace…

In the still and the silent dawn,

Another day is born

Washed up by the tireless waves,

The body bent and torn,

When you wake in the face of the blinding sun,

And you search only to find

That heaven is a stranger place, 

Than the one you've left behind…

~*~*~*~

Notes on Jack: Jack's conversation with himself is decidedly "off." Those readers with an eye will notice that one half of the conversation is **subtly** less educated than the other. It's been brought to my attention that Jack Sparrow has an educated banter in the film, something that he lacks considerably in this work. I'm still working on getting Jack's character in order, and making attempts to accurately display as many aspects of his persona as I can. He's notoriously difficult to write, and thus far, I've yet to see two authors with the same handle on him. I appreciate all criticisms of his character. If you have something to add, please don't hesitate to mention it. I take all comments into consideration, and while Jack will continue to speak with his "drawl" (if only in the interest of preserving the flow of the story) I do appreciate your bringing it to my attention (you know who you are).

That said, please don't flood my Inbox with complaint's that a pirate would never marry and bring his wife on board the ship. All will be explained in due time. 

Thank you to all those who've taken the time to read thus far. 

Suggestion Box: nymuea@yahoo.com


	9. Under the Influence

Title: An Eye for a Bargain  9/?

Genre: Action/Romance

Pairing: J/OC, W/E, N/OC 

Rating: R/NC-17

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am serious. Even this machine is a rental. Pirates of the Caribbean, all its characters/places/things belongs to Disney.  I take no credit for the recognizable. I make no profit from this.

Summary: A romance of sorts for Jack Sparrow. 

Notes: _Italicized words denote thoughts._

Comments: Good god, it has been a long bloody time! My deepest apologies. I haven't quite given up, but a serious lack of time has prevented me from devoting my efforts to this piece. I hope you enjoy the update. If things go as planned, there'll be another along shortly. As always, I appreciate my reader's support, so if you have time, drop me a review.

~*~*~*~

_We pillage, we plunder, we rifle and loot._

_Drink up me 'earties, Yo Ho!_

_We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot._

_Drink up me 'earties, Yo Ho!_

_Yo Ho, Yo Ho! A pirate's life for me._

_We extort, we pilfer, we filch and sack._

_Drink up me 'earties, Yo Ho!_

_Maraud and embezzle and even hijack._

_Drink up me 'earties, Yo Ho!_

_Yo Ho, Yo Ho! A pirate's life for me._

_Yo Ho, Yo Ho! A pirate's life for me._

Abby groaned as she regained consciousness, the pounding in her head reminiscent of the waves that ripped through the foundations of the shore during only the most frightful storm. She felt as if she'd run a great race, and the continuous pounding in her skull was not at all helped by the blasted singing by the blasted pirates on their blasted rotten ship that they'd carried her off in against her will.

She growled, as every moment of the last hellish day in a half came back to her with crystal clarity. She wanted nothing more than to give Captain Jack bloody Sparrow a hint of what their newfound married life would truly be like. Just give her a bloody dagger and five minutes alone with her 'husband'. Better yet, make it a rusty and dull dagger. Let the infection kill him instead. The thought of her dear Captain's expression when his manhood fell off from said infection lightened her mood, if only a little.

Sighing, she made to stand, only to topple over in a heap beside the bed.  Breathing deeply, and discovering the air to be stale and dank _*there's the cause of your headache right there, Abby*_, she coughed. The smell in the room was enough to knock a person over. That had to be remedied, and soon.

So Abby sat, regaining her balance, and finally managed to get herself up, though her head still ached painfully. She hoped the fools above had something to remedy it, though it seemed highly unlikely.  

They were singin' and dancing, a merry bunch o' fools. A few bottles were being passed here and there. She found the Captain, if one could call him that, at the helm, turning the wheel whichever way his heart desired. As one might expect, his hands were full with navigation, and a bottle of booze. Disgusted, Abby attempted to make her way toward the helm. Attempted being the key word, as she first had to plow her way through the rowdy party of crewmembers.

_We kindle and char, inflame and ignite._

_Drink up me 'earties, Yo Ho!_

_We burn up the city, we're really a fright._

_Drink up me 'earties, Yo Ho!_

_Yo Ho, Yo Ho! A pirate's life for me._

_We're rascals, scoundrels, villains and knaves._

_Drink up me 'earties, Yo Ho!_

_We're devils and black sheep, really bad eggs!_

_"Really bad eggs!"_ Sparrow emphasized, taking another long pull from his bottle. The crew cheered, thrown into gales of laughter as they drunkenly continued to sing:

_Drink up me 'earties, Yo Ho!_

_Yo Ho, Yo Ho! A pirate's life for me._

_We're beggars and blighters and ne'er-do-well cads._

_Drink up me 'earties, Yo Ho!_

_Aye! But we're loved by our mommies and dads!_

_Drink up me 'earties, Yo Ho!_

_Yo Ho, Yo Ho! A pirate's life for me._

_Yo Ho, Yo Ho! A pirate's life for me._

_Yo Ho, Yo Ho! A pirate's life for me._

_Yo Ho, Yo Ho! A pirate's life for me._

"Would ye quite with the bloody racket!" Abby cried, massaging her aching temples as she did so. Her only reference of sailors came from her experience on the crossing from England, and then of the naval officers under Commodore Norrington's command. This gruesome display of drunken tomfoolery came as quite a shock to the sheltered young woman.

"Why, if it ain't Mrs. Cap'n! Ahoy Lady Sparra!" A particularly foul pirate addressed her, whilst stepping forward to take her hand in his. He placed a sloppy kiss upon her hand, kneeling upon the deck in false bravado. "Tis a great pleasure milady." It was only then that Abiageal took any notice of her disheveled state. Her hair had fallen of its ties completely, cascading down her back and over her shoulders in a coppery river. The untamed curls, now frizzed with the moisture from the open ocean, flew about every which way; a most un-proper appearance, to say the least. That however, said nothing of her state of dress. Her soiled gown, having been torn during her capture, had twisted during her respite, and now bearly had the means to cover her more intimate regions. She felt her face heat, as her cheeks turned crimson with embarrassment, and then rage. 

"Unhand me, you rascal!" Forcefully withdrawing her hand from the man's grasp, she turned around wildly in an attempt to escape the crowd. 

"Feisty lil' thing aren't ye?" One of the men crowed triumphantly, taunting her poorly planned attempt. As it stood now, she was utterly surrounded by sneering, loathsome, filthy pirates. Her head felt light, and she was sure she would faint, when a coarse shout sounded from above.   

"Aye lads, ye best be keepin' yer hands off the Cap'ns mistress." Gibbs warned, even as the Captain himself sauntered over to peer onto the lower deck. The sight that greeted him caused his previously joyful countenance to change quite drastically. His body became abruptly still, and his hands ceased their incessant flailing. The kohl lining 'round his eyes narrowed dangerously till naught was visible but an angry slit.

"What ye be doin' out here, luv?" Sparrow asked, his tone low, the previous drunken slur all but gone from his voice.

As quickly as it had formed, the crowd around her dispersed, leaving her out in the open with naught but her husband's eyes upon her. Standing tall, piecing together the last pieces of her dignity, Abby spoke. "I came to see what all the racket was about. As I can see, the party started without me." Her voice betrayed the quiver that coursed through her body as she said it, and she cursed herself for her weakness. _Bloody girl, get it together!_

Jack eyebrows rose in surprise at her response, a small smile forming on his lips.  Said smile however, did not reach his eyes, and Abby felt the need to be afraid as he stepped lightly down the stairway toward her.  Swallowing her fear, she met his eyes, pleased that they stood much of a height, so that she needn't feel as though he were gazing down upon her, ready to stamp her beneath his tyrannical boot. The feeling didn't last long however, because as soon as her courage lifted, Captain Jack Sparrow opened his mouth.

"Ye think ye' be joining in the celebrations, eh? I think not. The deck of a pirate ship is no place for a woman such as yerself, and therefore, ye'll be confined to our quarters unless I say so, savvy?"

Before she could voice her opinion to that nonsense, the Captain strode back toward the wheel, disappearing from her view.  "Mr. Gibbs," Jack motioned toward his mate. "Would you be so kind as to escort me wife to our cabin? Also, it be best if you ensure she stays there as well." Nodding, the stout pirate stalked toward the now glowering woman, and gently drew her back into the ships interior.

"Miss, I believe it best if ye just sit tight a few days." He whispered. "I don't thinks the Cap'ns in the right of mind to be dealing with ye, if ye take me meanin'." 

Abby's eyes narrowed in confusion. "I still don't understand why I'm here! Why me? I have no fortunes to speak of, and I highly doubt anyone will put up much of a fuss over my abduction. Rest assured, Mr. Gibbs is it?" The pirate nodded. "Rest assured, I am by no means here, and married to your Captain of my own free will." 

Gibbs laughed heartily at this revelation. "I have no doubt of that, lass. Jack ever was the scoundrel. Just sit tight fer awhile, see what brews. Ye may be surprised."

She sighed heavily as the door was once again closed in her face, but her anger only increased when she heard the lock turning. _Abby, you have the worst luck…_

~*~*~*~

"Annamaria, would ye be so kind as to take the wheel fer me, luv? Ol' Jack be needin' a rest." Sparrow cooed at the woman, his eyes glazed with drink, and a bit more sway in his movements than was usual.

She nodded, a wicked smirk spreading across her face. "Did you forget Captain? Tis your wedding night, sir." 

Jack simply stared at her, his brow knitting together as he thought about that. Wedding night? What the devil? It hit him with the force of a hurricane, and he had to struggle to stay upright. O' course! Now he remembered. He had himself wedded that morning, hadn't he? He smiled, as though he'd discovered something no one else knew about. Obviously, he was quite proud of himself. "That's right, ain't it? I did get meself today! Where be my wife?"

Annamaria simply rolled her eyes. Men were such idiots, said pirate Captain specifically. "She's in your cabin, Captain. Remember?"  

"Oh yes." Jack nodded. "Good place fer her."

"Go to bed, Jack" 

"A'right"

~*~*~*~

She heard the door open, as the loud crash of it hitting the wall was more than enough to pull her from her less-than-restful slumber. After agonizing over her situation for hours, she'd finally succumbed to the weariness inflicted by the day, and had collapsed in a heap on the smelly heap of rags that constituted the Captain's bunk. There was a crash, as one of the lamps fell to the floor, followed by whatever else had been crowding the man's desk.

 "Damn," a muffled curse under breath.

_Fumbling in the dark like a fucking idiot. _

_Abiageal! Such language! A lady ought not know such words!_

She couldn't help the smirk that appeared on her face, and hastened to hide it in the pillow. This entire situation was utterly ridiculous. Who ever would have imagined it? A pirate, abducting her! Forcing her to be his wife no less…

She heard the spark of the lamp after some minutes, an eerie glow casting away the gloom of the cabin. He was glad she had her back to him. Concentrating on the wall, she worked on feigning sleep. At least if she were unconscious, he'd leave her be, right? Earlier nightmares of what Jack Sparrow might do to her when he finally tired of his crewman's company came back to haunt her, and her heart sped up in turn. _Please don't touch me, please don't touch me, please don't touch me…  _

"Ah, there you are, lass." She could _hear_ his cocky smile. She tried to force the tremble down as the bed dipped behind her, but her resolve was un-done when a rough hand settled on her hip, sliding down her thigh through her skimpy dress. She whimpered, sitting upright and quickly pulling away from him. She scrambled to the other side of the bed, only then realizing that she'd cornered herself between the wall and her, ahem, 'husband.' "Where the hell you think you're off to?" He asked, his tone deepening, even as his eyes darkened with something she'd never seen before. 

"Please, just leave me alone." She begged, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

"Oh, luv. I like it when you beg." He shimmied closer, his hand darting out to catch her cheek in a soft caress. "I promise, I won't hurt ye."

She closed her eyes in fear, relying on that age-old technique one learns as a child. _If I just ignore him, maybe he'll go away._

No such luck. She tensed as warm lips enclosed over her own, wondering why in the hell she'd ever thought appreciatively about his kisses. _ He's a monster! _ 

Jack drew away, much to her relief. Sitting back, but still close enough to prevent her escape, he gazed over his prize. Not a bad haul at all. He'd certainly had worse. "You'll warm up to me yet, little one." Grasping her hand, he drew it to his lips, caressing the tender flesh softly with the tip of his tongue. She shuddered. Whether with disgust or passion, he didn't know. He certainly preferred the later though. "We've got all the time in the world."

~*~*~*~

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	10. The Fine Art of Falling Apart

Title: An Eye for a Bargain  10/?

Genre: Action/Romance

Pairing: J/OC, W/E, N/OC  

Rating: R/NC-17

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am serious. Even this machine is a rental. Pirates of the Caribbean, all its characters/places/things belongs to Disney.  I take no credit for the recognizable. I make no profit from this. Yes, I'm using song lyrics again. The one line in the last scene comes from Sarah McLachlan's "Time," taken from her new album, _Afterglow_. Now everyone rush out and buy it.

Summary: A romance of sorts for Jack Sparrow. 

Notes: Italicized words denote thoughts.

_Important for the Commodore fans_: I KNOW Norrington's first name is James, but I already established him as Theodore in the first few chapters, so to compromise, he'll be Theodore James Norrington.  Don't kill me, just try and remember that I'm already in canon hell for fucking with his character in the first place;)

Comments: Thanks once again goes to the mighty Quinn for keeping me inspired.

~*~*~*~

_"And it is on this day, in the year of our Lord, 1724, that I pronounce the union between your two houses to be secured through the bonds of marriage. May God bless your union with plentiful fruit and much joy. Slowly, the blushing bride turned to face her husband, who quickly captured her lips in a tender kiss, the first to mark their union as husband and wife. The groom, standing tall and proud, offered his arm to his new wife, and together, the two traveled forth to the greeting and well wishes of their loved ones_. 

Drawing her from the depths of her sweet slumber was a harsh, rough sound. It faded in and out with her rapidly changing state of consciousness, grating her weakened nerves with its severity. Harsh sunlight pierced through the fog of her slumber, fully awakening both Abiageal and her dormant headache. Groaning, she blinked rapidly to restore sight to her sleep filled eyes. She glanced about the cabin, trying to assemble her surroundings, and make use of her tortured mind. Looking for the source of her rude awakening, she wasn't surprised to discover it to be her husband. She was however, concerned with the method of his doing so. 

Captain Jack Sparrow was knelt at the head of his desk, doubled over in a fit of coughing, struggling for his breath in the manner of a drowning man. Concerned, Abby made to sit up, but found herself tangled within the bedclothes and unable to move. "Are you alright Jack?" She asked. She received no oral response, but when he seated himself in his chair a moment later, he seemed in good health. T'was odd, as he'd seemed in perfect health the last two mornings_. Must be a result of too much drink_.  She was slightly relieved that he hadn't heard her inquiry, and lay back down, feigning sleep. She watched him through half-shut eyes, as he sat as his desk with the appearance of what looked to be working. _Jack works?_ Indeed, he was poring over various documents, his attention completely focused on the task before him. In contrast with the sight he'd made last night, the vision before her was almost comical. 

She stifled the giggle before it issued from her lips, and slowly began re-adjusting her position in the lumpy bunk. Her attempt to avoid drawing attention to herself however, was in vain, as said miserable bunk gave a loud "creak" with her miniscule movement, alerting Sparrow to her restored state of consciousness. "It's about time you awoke, luv. Tis almost midday." There was a hint of a scratch in his voice, no doubt the leftovers from his coughing fit. "How's your head this morning, darling?" She glanced up suspiciously at his inquiry, unsure as to how he'd come to know of her condition. _He's being far too nice this morning._

"Don't address me as such! I am by no means your _darling._ And while I can't see how it's any concern of yours, my head feels quite fine." She winced even as she said it, her temples throbbing dangerously. _When was the last time you ate, Abby?_

Jack sat back in his chair, his brows scrunching together in a pout. "I was worried about you. That was quite the tumble you took last night. I wasn't sure you'd ever wake up."

_Tumble? What the devil is he talking about?_ She was fairly certain the Captain had been too into his cups last night, and proceeded to tell him as much. Jack took a defensive stance in his chair, smiling widely. "I didn't drink too much, how could one ever drink too much? Provided O'course, that the situation be appropriate."

Ignoring the comment, Abby steered the conversation back to the night's events. "I still don't understand what you're talking about, Captain. What tumble? That last thing I remember was you getting the idea in your head that you deserved what is normally an activity reserved for the, ah, closest of people, and then I must have fallen asleep." She paled at her revelation. _Oh dear, did he have his way with you, and you simply blacked out? Tumble?_ "What happened last night, Captain?"

Jack threw his head back and laughed, the charms and beads strung in his hair clinking musically as he did so. She was disturbed to note the wheeze in his breath while he laughed, but the thought was lost when he returned his gaze to her, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Nay, lass. Relax. Ol' Jack may be a dog, but if I'm to have ye, I'll have ye with yer consent, savvy? I'll not take ye unless yer begging me for it." 

Abby nodded weakly, her cheeks scorched crimson at the very idea. "That will never happen, Captain Sparrow."

"Never say never, luv." He winked, returning to the parchment in his hands. 

"What the devil happened then? If not my rape?" She all but screamed in frustration. 

Sighing, he made to re-assure her, his voice gentle. "You scrambled away from me when I tried to kiss ya. Took a mean ol' tumble off the bunk, and smacked yer head," he slapped his hand loudly on the table for effect, "somethin' fierce on the floor. Out like a light. I put ye to bed and made myself scarce this morning. Lady Luck however, seems I'm not in her best graces today, as when I returned to my _administrative duties_, you were still abed. Forgive me luv, but even Captain Jack Sparrow knows better than to risk the wrath O' his lady." He smiled as he said the last bit, a smug grin marking his weathered face. "Ye sure made a funny sight though, tumbling head o'er heels onto the floor. Very graceful."

She tensed somewhat at his referring to her as a possession, but her cheeks colored with embarrassment at his teasing. She'd never been the most graceful of women. Having a pirate of all people point that out to her was less than amusing. It damned well hurt her pride. "Fear not Captain, this lady's wrath has abated somewhat." She sighed, looking upon her disheveled self, and once again noticing her horrid state of dress. The garments condition, if it were possible, had lessened somewhat during the night, to a point where she wouldn't feel comfortable wearing it before a dressing maid, much less any man. "Captain?"

Jack looked up from his work distractedly. "Eh?"

"I don't suppose you have some suitable clothing for me in your possession?" She hated having to ask anything of him, but she certainly couldn't parade around in her current condition. 

"Aye, give me but a moment." Nodding distractedly, he retrieved a writing instrument from his drawer, and quickly made some notes on the parchment that had captured his interest. Abiageal barely registered that he was actually writing before tucking the thought away for further analysis later. With a flourish, Jack rose from his seat and swaggered over to the bureau on the far side of the room. "We don't keep much in the way of ladies swag onboard." He explained as he withdrew a worn pair of trousers, tunic, and vest. 'These however, should do the trick until I can provide you with more suitable garments." 

Abby raised a brow at the pro-offered items, but took them without question. Not appropriate perhaps, but certainly better than nothing. "I'll be at the helm. Ye get yerself dressed, and I'll be by later with some means of keeping ye amused."

"I'm still not to leave these quarters then?" Abby made to protest, but the pirate cut her off.

"Nay, lass. I don't need ye attracting unwanted attention." His tone was firm, the gentleness she'd awoken to gone from his person. 

She sighed. "Understood."

Nodding his approval, he made to leave, but not before taking up the contents of his desk and locking them away in the cabinet. Obviously, the devil had something to hide. Just as he reached the casement, his knees buckled, and a new fit of coughing took over, shaking his frame violently. "Jack, are you not well?" She made as to help him sit, but he pulled away.

"I'll be fine. Just too much time spent on land. Give me' a few days on the Pearl, an' I'll be right as rain."

A frown creased her brow, but she let him go. Despite his ill treatment of her, she wasn't one to condone the suffering of others. Well, unless of course, his suffering came by her hand, but that was another matter. She made a solemn vow to herself, as she changed from her soiled clothes, to discover what secrets her husband was hiding. 

_Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?_

_"I s'pose so.."_

~*~*~*~

"Jack, I mean no disrespect, but ye got some explainin' ta be doin'." 

Sparrow, one hand caressing _The Pearl's wheel_, the other adjusting his sash, merely glared at his first mate in defiance. "I'm the captain of this vessel, eh mate? Therefore, I'll be doin' no explaining unless I see fit, savvy?"

Gibbs put his foot down, folding his arms across his chest, and just begging said "Captain" to further ignore his request. He was pleased when Annamaria came to stand beside him, looking just as interested in what Jack had to say. "No Cap'n, t'aint, _savvy_. Ye see, I wants to know what ye think yer doin' bringin' any ol' strumpet aboard the ship. Ye know as well's I do that women, no fence' to you 'Maria," he nodded towards the woman in question, "is bad luck on board. And not just in a mythical sense either. With a woman on board, God only knows what sort'a ideas yer crew are bound ta git, Jack. Ye know as well as I that it be against the code."  Jack nodded, but said nothing.  "Fer Christ sake Jack, why'd ye marry the girl? Why?"

Still, the Captain held his tongue. 

Shaking his head in defeat, Gibbs trotted off in search of something to do. T'was obvious the answers would not be coming anytime soon. Annamaria held her ground, searching jack's eyes for some hint of the truth, but found only the mask he often wore in such circumstances. She shook her head warily and moved away to her post. Jack sighed and turned his attention to the horizon, his eyes un-focusing as his mind traveled away…  

~*~*~*~

"I don't suppose you know anything about this?"  

Norrington glanced over at the enraged Lawrence Montgomery, and closed his eyes in frustration. "Sir, would it not be logical to say that had I known of the pirates intentions, I may have taken actions to prevent this from happening in the first place?"

Montgomery said nothing, so great was his pain. "What are we going to do about this, Commodore? Surely you must have some plan of action?" The Commodore's face was grim. In short, he didn't know what to do. Sparrow had come and gone before, and he certainly hadn't allowed himself to be captured easily. Or had he?

"There may be some means of tracking him down sir. I just need to reach a few contacts of mine."

"What kind of contacts are these, Commodore? They're reliable of course? How long will it take to reach them/ god only knows what that scoundrel has done to my daughter."

Yes, god only knew indeed. Norrington's thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a guard troop, escorting what appeared to be a priest. The man was white as a ghost, and appeared to be carrying official documents of some sort. "How can we help you sir?" Norrington inquired.

"I'm afraid he's got some bad news, Commodore."

~*~*~*~

"Married? Lawrence, you can't be serious? What would a pirate be doing marrying our daughter, and how can that be legal? She surely didn't give her consent?" Laura was on the verge of hysteria, and only settled into a nearby chair when all but forced into it by her son in law.

"I'm afraid it's true. The Commodore has the papers now. They're perfectly binding and legal, though at least a decade old."

"Surely there must have been some mistake? Why would Jack Sparrow take Abiageal as his wife? The idea is ridiculous." Cate interrupted, soothing her mothers back with tired hands. The room sat in silence before the crushed sobs of Laura broke the moment. 

"He's taken my baby. She's of no good to anyone now. What man would have her, after she'd been in the custody of a pirate?" While she had been the first to voice this truth, all had had it on their minds. "What did Norrington say, Lawrence? Will he search for her?"

Pursing his lips, her husband delivered the blow. "He's not certain if Sparrow will ever be found, but is making attempts to contact those that managed his capture the first time. Unfortunately, he didn't appear too eager to resume any discussion about our marriage arrangement."

"Do you blame the man, darling?" Laura hissed bitterly.

"Come mother, be fair." Soothed Cate. "Do you think, father, that it's possible Captain Sparrow knew of Abby's marriage arrangement with the Commodore?"

"I don't see how. Not unless Norrington had told him himself. No one knew, the announcement was set to take place after Sparrow's execution, but was thrown aside after his escape." 

"But is may have been a possibility? It's the only reason I can think of. Jack Sparrow married Abiageal in an attempt to ensure that the Commodore never could. They are old enemies, aren't they? It seems the only logical course."

"Logical? Jack Sparrow by no means operates in terms of logic, darling. But it may be a clue. For now, let's drop the focus on the _why_ and concentrate on returning Abby safe and sound. I know I won't rest until she's safe at home."

~*~*~*~

It was almost midnight when the knock sounded at their door, drawing the Turner's from their bed. "Good Lord, Will, who could be calling at this hour?" Elizabeth asked angrily, drawing her robe on with haste, even as her husband pulled dup his trousers. Picking a loose shirt from the floor, he moved to the chamber door.

"I honestly have no idea. Stay here, darling. I promise I'll call for you. Put something on in the meantime." 

She nodded reluctantly, but turned to the wardrobe for wares. She had to admit to herself that she was slightly miffed at the interruption. She and Will rarely made love anymore, what with his spending so much time in the workshop to fill the high volume of orders. Tonight had been the one night he'd set aside specially for her, and it had been wonderful. Yet they'd barely had a moment to bask in the Afterglow of their passion before the interruption. Whoever was so bold to knock on their door at this time of night had better be worth it. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she left the room, stalking downstairs angrily. Her glare softened when she entered the parlor, and turned to outright shock when she discovered Commodore Norrington, looking slightly distressed, seated with Will and rambling on about pirates. "He took her, Turner. He took her, but he wasn't satisfied with merely kidnapping her away from me. No, the bastard had to go and dishonor by rite of marriage."

"Hold on Theodore, what are you saying?" Elizabeth interrupted. "Are you saying that Jack married Abby? You know the idea itself is ridiculous! Jack Sparrow would never do such a thing. The only way Jack would ever get married was if he could wed his damn boat!"

Norrington shook his head sadly. "Nay, Elizabeth, I speak the truth." He removed the papers from his coat, handing them to Will with shaking hands. 

"Bloody hell," Will whispered in alarm. "That bastard's gone and done it this time." 

"Why would he do such a thing, Will?" She shrieked, bewildered at Jack's wild behavior.

"Only Jack knows, darling. I can't even explain it myself." Will's eyes were widened in disbelief, and he had to sit himself as this new piece of information was digested. "What the hell are you thinking, Jack?" He muttered softly to himself.

"Abiageal and I were going to be married." Norrington revealed. "We were going to make the announcement after Sparrow's execution, but it never came to pass. Perhaps she resented me for tarnishing what should have been a happy occasion and ran away with him willingly?"

"I doubt that," Will replied. "She seemed quite terrified of him when I found her on the beach."  

"Abiageal McLeod is a lady. I have no reason to believe Sparrow's abduction of her was anything but that: and abduction." Norrington swallowed before continuing. It was obvious this conversation was making him uncomfortable. "The point is, yet again, my betrothed has been lost to me. Mr. Turner, while I mean no ill toward you or your wife, I'm finding it considerably difficult to do my duty of late. My recent promotion to my current station has thrown into sharp relief that which I haven't yet achieved; I want to be married, I desire a family. In short, I want what you have Turner, but it seems I'm not meant for such things, now does it?"   

"Commodore, please don't talk like that. You're a fine man, and are destined for great things." He looked at Elizabeth warily, as though he had no reason to trust her, much as he wanted to.

"Forgive me for rousing you from your bed at this late hour. I've taken too much of your time as it is. I merely came here seeking insight as to why Sparrow would have done this. Yet, I can see you know about as much as any of us does. I offer my apologies. Allow me to take my leave." He stood and rushed to the door, eager for solitude. "Please, if you think of anything, keep me informed."

He pushed the door open before they could protest, and stepped into the blackened streets.

"Oh God Will, what has Jack done? I don't understand it." She moved into her husband's arms, seeking solace in the warmth of his embrace.

Tenderly, he kissed her brow. "I wish I knew, Liz. But you know how Jack is, he only ever does something if there is a personal benefit to be gained."

"What's so special about Abiageal McLeod? There must be more to this than meets the eye. It just doesn't make any sense!"

"Come to bed, luv. Perhaps things will look clearer in the morning."

~*~*~*~

He stumbled in the dark, his thoughts fragmented and unclear. The streets were hazy, unsafe in the limited light cast by the moon. He planned to look into lighting as soon as the opportunity arose. He could not help the bitter anger than arose in his heart, here in the silence of the night, were there were none to see the shadow that fell over his features. For too long, he'd done his duty, been satisfied with the glory that a job done right could provide. He felt a weariness creeping over his heart, over his soul. He felt alone. For so many years he'd lived behind an iron mask, built a wall around his person as a means of protection from the outside world.

_Why is it that I am so alone? Because you choose to serve others before serving yourself, you fool._

There had been so much to gain by a marriage to Abiageal. The stability he'd been lacking emotionally of late would have been provided. She would have born him children, securing airs for their combined fortunes. Her money had helped to decide that she was the right woman for him, just as Elizabeth's had before her. It was no secret that he desired a bride of good blood, rearing and family wealth. A man of his stature deserved no less, and it wasn't as though he'd had much of an opportunity to marry for love.

_Love? Folly is that thing called love. I certainly don't need it to be happy, do I? Of course I don't.  _

The truth of it was, Sparrow had had him again. He was always one step ahead, bastard that he was. Norrington smiled. "Jack, Jack, Jack. Jack Sparrow. What the devil am I going to do with you?" His smile turned into a smirk as a plan formed in his head. While he didn't hate Jack, the pirate had now stepped beyond the point of being a nuisance. Something had to be done about him, and this time, done right.  

~*~*~*~

"Strike three, mate. You're out…."

She was waiting for him to go to her, let her know what she was to be doing onboard his ship. Truth be told, he had no bloody idea what to do with her. All he knew, was that he wanted her away from the rest of the crew, at least until things were settled, and they had it firm in their heads exactly who she belonged to.

_Being she belongs to you, right Jack?_

_Yes of course._

Handing the helm to Annamaria, he quickly made his way to his cabin door, standing outside, debating with himself whether or not to go in. It wasn't that he was afraid, nay. He was lost. What the hell does one do with a woman onboard their ship, besides bed her? This one didn't look like she was going to be bedded anytime soon, at least by him. He listened carefully, shocked to hear her singing within:

_"To have me, to hold me, a token for all the see, captured to be yours alone."_

Well the, perhaps there was hope after all. Was she taking to her place sooner than expected? He'd best go in and check. He noted mildly that he liked her voice. She did sing a great deal, now that he thought about it. Perhaps that voice of hers could be put to good use. He pushed the door open, shutting it behind him just as quickly. "So good to see you back, Captain. I was about ready to pull my hair out."

He smiled one of those warm smiles. The type that made her knees weak, despite her reservations about his character. Raising an eyebrow, he surveyed his cabin. "Bloody hell, you cleaned the place up."

"That I did." She stood, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance. "You honestly didn't expect me to sit in here all day doing nothing?"

Jack shook his head. "Nay, luv. I honestly didn't know what to expect, but I certainly didn't expect….." He felt a wave of dizziness wash over him, one that he couldn't quell. It had happened all afternoon, but while manning the wheel, at least he'd had something to hold onto until it passed. He felt something ill rise from his chest, barreling through his throat and begging for release. When it tore from his lips, it sounded more atrocious than it felt, though it still felt awful. Captain jack Sparrow sank to his knees in defeat, struggling for breath, even as the last wave of his previous pneumonia took hold of his body. Too much exertion in too few days after his mild recovery, and the illness had come back full force. Nothing he could have done would have prevented it. He choked and coughed, gasping for air on the cabin floor, silently begging for her assistance. _You're a goddamn fool, Jack. This woman has no reason to help you, not after what you've done to her._

"Jack!" Abby flew to his side, anxiousness building in her as she helped him to his bed. "Someone help!" She called, frantically begging for someone to hear. "Your Captain is sick!"

"I need to rest, luv." Came the weak response from the bed. He wheezed between words. "I'll be fine, just need to sleep."

'Sleep then, Captain. Sleep." She tired not to think about how afraid she'd been, seeing him sink to his knees before her. She tried not to think about how dependant she'd become on him, even in such little time. Most of all, she tried not to think about what losing him would entail. It was simply not something she wanted to consider.

_Wilt thou love him, obey him, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?_

_"I will."_

~*~*~*~


	11. Long Way Down

Title: An Eye for a Bargain  11/?

Genre: Action/Romance

Pairing: J/OC, W/E, N/OC  

Rating: R/NC-17

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am serious. Even this machine is a rental. Pirates of the Caribbean, all its characters/places/things belongs to Disney.  I take no credit for the recognizable. I make no profit from this. 

Summary: A romance of sorts for Jack Sparrow. 

Notes: _Italicized words denote thoughts._

Comments: 
    
    ~*~*~*~

She couldn't help being worried for him, despite all that he had done to her. She cursed herself for the natural protective instinct that took hold every time someone close by was in need. She'd been sitting here beside him now, soaking his brow with cool water, patiently waiting for the fever to break.

Jack, oblivious to his surroundings, would mutter incoherent thoughts into the still of the night. Most of what he uttered was incomprehensible, not that she was interested in what he had to say. Yet, every so often, his cries would be coherent_._ The last hours had been most telling, as she'd heard his raspy voice give life to French, German, Italian, Latin and even some Oriental dialect she wasn't familiar with. It revealed much: Jack was an educated man. An educated pirate was an interesting development, indeed. Thus, she'd entertained herself with sweet imaginings of where Jack had begun his life. The romantic in her concluded that he _must_ have been of noble birth, and had been forced from his home after some _horrible_ tragedy. He now sailed the open seas seeking revenge, fame and fortune.

_You're an idiot, Abby._ Grinning like a fool at her fiction, she then imagined him being pardoned, and returning to his torn homeland to revive the ailed country he was heir to, with her at his side.

_How romantic._

Well, there had to be some means of making, or at least pretending, her life was pleasant. _Oh, and I suppose once Captain Sparrow has relinquished his hold on this treacherous life, you'll willingly lie beneath him? I can imagine it now, his hands on your virgin flesh, thrusting you further into a river of ecstasy._

Her cheeks flushed scarlet at such thoughts. She glanced distastefully at the weakened man in the bed, trying to envision herself in such a position with him. Nay, it wasn't happening. Dream world Jack was much more pleasant, a real gentlemen. He bathed on a regular basis, and such things were important.

She sighed, and stood to stretch her tired muscles. Feeling herself growing frustrated, she began to pace the small space of the cabin. Strangely, she'd not left this confined space at all since Sparrow's fall from grace._ Now why is that, Abby?_ Why indeed. _It's because you told him you wouldn't leave. He ordered you to remain, and thus, you have obeyed his commend. Obeyed his command._

_Obey._

Now there was a tricky word. She'd been pondering her wedding vows oft in the last hours, as the days melted into one and she became completely unaware of her surroundings. The only thing she could be sure of was Jack Sparrow: Captain of the Black Pearl, her husband.

Her husband who now lay in a feverish state, and nothing could be said for his survival. 

_Now, if he were to die, that would make you a widow, Abby. _

"Stop such foolish thoughts." _He isn't going to die._

"Not so long as I'm on watch." 

Hatred was a strong word. Many used it oft in their descriptions of those they felt ill toward. While she certainly harbored no delusions about her _real_ relationship with Jack Sparrow, she could hardly be said to hate him either. For in fact, he'd done her no real harm. She was still alive, and so were the other innocent souls whom had come into contact with him since their meeting. He treated her decently enough, even going so far as to protect her from the members of his crew he didn't trust. 

Since she'd called out for help at his fall, only two crewmembers had breached the chamber to see their Captain: Mr. Gibbs, and the woman, Annamaria.  They'd not stayed long, though they had expressed considerable concern over Sparrow's health. They'd provided her with all that she asked, and even that which she didn't: bringing a tray of bread and cheese for her own consumption while she held vigil at Jack's bedside.

She'd done everything she could think of to speed Jack's recovery, but she was by no means a skilled healer, and there was no surgeon onboard the ship. Though she tried to deny it, there was a fear that had festered in her heart, a fear that he would never wake up. Returning to his side, she took his hand in her own, holding it gently. "Please wake up, Captain." She whispered. "I need you to wake up. I need you to protect me." The admission stung her deeply, but she wasn't so foolish as to believe she was capable of managing herself on board a pirate ship, far away from any one she knew. If Jack passed, she might as well jump off the side of the ship and feed herself to the sharks.

She felt the tears ebb at the corners of her eyes, and her voice shook as the fear took grip on her heart. "Please wake up…."

~*~*~*~

He'd been out for several hours. _More likely several days, Jack_. He was fairly certain that he was still aboard _The Pearl_, and that the ship was still on course, but he couldn't be positive. Gibbs and Anna would take care of things, in that he could trust. 

He'd been drifting close to oblivion, too close for comfort. He knew the truth of it now: that a man could feel death knocking on his doorstep, and the knocking was bloody loud in his case. Yet, sometime after it had begun, the knocking had stopped. He'd heard a pleasant voice, singing softly up above. It was peaceful, and smooth, though it tended to crack with emotion every now and then. 

_The woman. Your wife, Jack. She's calling for you._

_"Please wake up, Captain."_

Oy, he could hear her all right. It was a relief to know she was still there, even though he didn't care for the way she rambled on about her foolish daydreams. He had however, be pleased to note that he featured quite prominently in those daydreams. His ego had ballooned hearing her talk about walking around on his arm, but had promptly deflated hearing her wonder about his noble roots.

She was dreaming all right. Couldn't have been further form the truth in his opinion. Now, if only he could wake up and correct that terrible misunderstanding. If they let him wake up, that is. He started to wonder if anyone besides this girl would care if he were to wake up. And he wondered why she even cared at all.  Surely, she'd be better off is he were to stay sleeping?

 His head had been foggy before, and he was pretty sure he'd revisited his entire life in the span of an hour or two, but he was feeling better. Slightly. He felt a surge of energy run through him then, and he knew he would wake up. He just had to going about doing so. Groggily, he forced his eyes open. The world didn't spin this time, and taking that as a good sign, he made to sit up.

"Jack!" She screeched, wrecking havoc on his miserable ears. Scrunching his face up in pain, he glared at her from across the bed. 

"Luv," he hissed, his throat sore from misuse. "I'm glad to see you know my name, but would ye kindly quiet down? I can hear you just fine."

She blushed with shame, but held her tongue as requested. It was rough going, but she did manage to get him settled comfortably among the bed pillows after a few minutes of effort. "Would you care for some tea, Captain? It might help with the pain." He nodded, and watched her head for the door. Much to his surprise, she didn't leave the room, merely opened the door, and called for assistance. "Mr. Gibbs? The Captain is awake, would someone mind bringing tea?" A muffled shout could be heard above, as well as the telltale heavy footfalls of Gibbs making his way to the Captain's quarters. 

The Captain smiled. "You alright, Jack?" Gibbs called.

"I'll be fine, Gibbs. We still on course?" His first mate appeared in the doorway, and Abby stepped aside, and bowed her head respectfully, pretending not to hear.

"Aye, sir, that we are. We'll be reaching the port in a day or two, provided the weather holds." 

Jack nodded at this information, settling more comfortably into the pillows for support. "Gibbs, I trust you not to spread any rumors about my current state, savvy?" The look of desperation on his face told the other man everything he needed to know.

"Savvy, sir. All the crew needs to know is that you and the Missus are occupied."

Grinning wolfishly, the Captain nodded. "Well said, Mr. Gibbs. I trust you can handle yourself?"

Sensing his dismissal, Gibbs nodded, and returned above deck. Annamaria appeared a scant second later, bearing a tray with tea, and a few dry biscuits. She said nothing, but her smile was more than indicative of her present mood. She winked at Jack before closing the door behind her on her way out. 

Having not moved from her place in the corner throughout the exchange, Abby now stepped lightly across to the tray, and began brewing a suitable concoction for her ill husband's throat. "You didn't leave the cabin." Jack stated, watching her through half-lidded eyes.

She swallowed, "No, I didn't."

"Why?" Fully alert now, his coal-black eyes tore through her, and she knew she couldn't lie.

"Because you told me not to." She refused to look at him as she said it, instead keeping her eyes focused on the task at hand. 

_Because you told me not to._ The simple statement echoed in his mind, and he could not deny the satisfaction he felt at hearing it. He accepted her offering of tea, but declined the biscuit. His appetite was far from normal at the moment. 

She settled herself in the chair beside the bed, but made no aim at conversation. Suddenly, the small holes in the floorboards were quiet interesting to her. Jack watched her with interest, choking down the bitter drink quickly; he then set the empty cup on the bedside table. "Come here, Abby." He asked, holding his arms open in invitation. 

Her eyes widened in surprise, and she looked at him wearily, hesitating with her response. "Is that an order? Are you commanding me to come to you?" She made no effort to hide the bitterness in her tone.

Jack sighed, but held fast. "No, it's not a command. I'm asking." He waited for that to sink in, before repeating the request. "Come here, please."

She considered for a moment, thinking back on how desperate the last day had been. How afraid she had been. She considered what the man was offering her now, and decided, albeit with some hesitation, that it was a good thing. Slowly, she removed herself from her chair, and slipped into the offered embrace.  

She had almost lost something today, and the idea of it had scared her to death. Now, here in Jack's arms, she felt safe. She didn't know how, but that wasn't important. _It's safe now. He's not going to disappear and leave you alone. Rest._

Suddenly realizing that she'd not slept in two days, she allowed the fatigue to take hold of her body, and succumbed to her dreams. 

For his part, Jack couldn't explain what he was feeling. That this girl had nursed him back to health was obvious, but he found himself surprised by that. Now, here she was, mere days away from hating his guts, curled in his arms, sound asleep. He was suddenly very aware of her age, and just what effect his actions must have had on her. He didn't want to think about what might have happened to her if he had died.

He sighed. 

_Yer a bloody scallywag, Jack. Why the hell did ye have to grow a bloody conscious now?_

He didn't know.

~*~*~*~


End file.
